THE LAPSE OF ENOCH VVENTWORTH By ISABEL GORDON CUR lis, Author of •• The Woman from Wolvertons jy CHAPTER X.-(Cont'a). *'She hod. She came in, after Jrift- ins: through Iho provinc-cs in small paits, :iiul chance ^hro\v in her way one (if the most destur, ily fcmule parts evtr put on the stafre. She made it so real t-hat, blase old theater grer as 1 iim, 1 longed to thruttli! her. One nijfht 1 happened to meet her s(jciaUy. Zilla I'aKet assured me that in one ca?e at le.ist my theory was right, f-^he was cverythinjt she portrayed on the stKijre. and hcyond this, she was abso- lutely drunken with vanity." "Are you sure she is .so bad?" Enoch spoke coldly. "She is one of the most beautiful women I ever saw in my life." "That makes her more danijorous. I have actually doubted whether I di,d right when I brouKht her to a new- country and put her amonu decent people.' "Have you anything against< the woman except â€" theorie.s?' "Merely scraps of her history, which are authentic. She came from the lowest strat^im of factory life in Leeds and married above her. The younir husband was devoted to her. A baby came, a little boy who was blind. To that sort of woman neit-her child nor husband is a tie. She broke loose, a year or two after her mar- riage, and lost any self-respect sho had ever hail. The husband shot himself, she abandoned t-he child and left London. Then she went on the stage. "There was nothing then actually chiminal in her career?" asked Went- worth. He was con.scious of a cer- tain absurd irritation. Oswald hesitated. "Not actually criminal, I suppose. The law has not made so fine a point as to indict a woman when she driven a man to .sui- cide.'' "What do you think of chani;ing in her part;?" asked Wentworth brus- quely. "I waa going to suggest you make 'Mrs. Efterbrook' coarser, more flam- boyant, more heartless. Do not give her a solitary trait of motherhoo^L She is the very opposite of 'Cordelia,' with her love and tenderness or a broken father." "IIow do you account for a woman of that sort having such a child?" "Really now, Wentworth, that's uji to you; both of them are vour crea- tion!" "Yes certainly," Enoch I;iughe<l grimly. "Still it is an anomaly you don't ofljn see in real life." "It is," assented Oswald. "Ileie's Miss Paget - watch her in the scene I've mentioned.' The cye.i of boUi loeii fjIV veil the woman as .'he moved slowly across the stage. She dropped inbo a chair and wait'd for her cue. Sho di. i^iol 'ool; the traditional advent.iro-.^. Sh'i had a curiously pale, transparen!, sH,n, ia- !m which, (luring excited moments, tlie blood flu h'.'d rosily. Maib^s nf vel- low silky hair were brushed back in simple waves from her forehead. She u."cd little make-up or artifice o any- sort. Her eyes were intensely blue. Thnre was a lovely cleft dimple in her eh'n. .â- Mthough well along in the thir- ties she retained her girlish face and figtire. Wcnl-worth ti.irned to Oswald with a flush if irritation. "It doesn't seem fair to make a desenrrate of such a wom- an; she doesn't look it." 'That's where the mischief lies," answered Oswald quietly. The rehearsal went on. Miss Paget took her cue. Both men watche<i her critically. Wentworth drew a long breath when the scene with "Cordelia" in the Seconal act was over. The wom- an cert.tinly could act! "Shell do;' said Enoch heartily. "Only," ho added after a moment's hesitation, "how <loes Dorcas strike you? Is she strong enough? It doesn't seem to me as if .she saw all the pos- -sibilities of 'Cordelia.' " < 'Wentworth, your sister is going to surprise you. Take my word for it. She is nervous now, but â€" " "It's a devil of a risk. 'Cordelia's' such a big part and Dorcas has had no training." ''She's does not need training â€" the conventional training you have in mind." "If she ails it puts me in a nasty light with the public â€" praiucing a play simply to exploit) my sister." Enoch's tone was curt. "She won't fail." Oirwald spoke with quiet assurance. "Think over my sug- gestion about 'Mrs. Esterbrook's' part. It is there where 'Cordelia' leaves her â€" the mother knows the daughter well' enough to realize it is good-by foreverâ€" that you want tij cut out every spark of motherly feel- ing. Once or twice she almost pulls on the audience for sympathy. W'hen 'Cordelia' shows her contempt for the mother and shatters her every ambi- tion, there could not be a golitai y throb of pity, remorse or love â€" It is not in her." « Oswald dropped the subject. Went- worth began to twist his hands nerv- ously, a habit he had when disturbed. The Englishman sat back in silence, watching the rehearsal intently. Mer- ry stood leaning against a stucco pil- lar. In this act he di,i not appear, but occasionally ngain.st the sharp commands of the stage manager, his voice rang out in bi-jtf, concise gestions. "What a remnrkablo conception Merry has of every character," whis- pered Oswald. Enoch did not .speak. "Gilbert resents my orders â€" in a fashion." continued the Engli.'-hmnn. "I ti)l<l him to act on any suggestion that Merry offered. (lilbeit wo.ijd not say a word if you went back and threw in an idea here and there; a stage manager expects that from the author. I should think you would <iio it occasionally.' "It isn't in my line." Wentworth spoke sullenly. "Every move i.a pub Into the m.liniscript as plain as a pike- staff." "Yea, but â€" " Oswald glanced at his companion curiously, then he dropped the subject. "It strikes me Merry has changed. The nigh'j 1 spoke to him on the L he was like a boy with some grand secret up his sleeve. To- day he takes nothin;.? but a half lan- guid interest in the whole thing. He is goi:ig to give a remarkable por- trayal of 'John Ksterbrook,' but when ho is not acting he acems to have no interest in life. What do you lay it to?" "Don't ask me," murmured Went- worth. "He's a man of moods, I gave up trying to understand him years ago." "Even when it came to the question of salary he didn't show anj% interest He wouln't set a figure. I don't know yet if he thinks the price I named was right. He closed with my first offer, signed the contract, then walked out." "It's the biggest wad he ever drew." "He'll prove himself worth every ha'penny of it." Wentworth rose and pulled his hat from under the seat. "Don't you want bo see the rehead- sal out?" a.skcd Oswald suddenly. "No, I'm going home. I may put your suggestion into shape while it is fresh in my mind." Enoch paused in the theatre to lighb a cigar. A newspaper man, who was an old ricnd, approached, full of eager inquiry abojt the progress of the play. Wentworth brushed him aside quick- ly and strode out bo the street. A moment later he felt a twinge of re- morse. The man's congratulations had been heartfelt. He could not shake off the memory of a startled astonishment thiit came into his face at the brusque reception. He was a good fellow, there had been pleasant companionship with him in the old days. The old days seemed ages ago, further back then the gaiety of child- hood. He left Rror,i^vay, walking with quick, nervous strides until he found himself far over on the East side, wandering aimlessly through wretch- ed streets, populated by the drift from nations. The sidewalks were thronged with children. Occasionally Enoch swore beneath his breath as he es- caped tumbling over them during his hurried, headlong progress. When he t/irned a corner he found his way blockade by a huge safe that was be- ing hoisted into a warehouse. He glanced at the street, it was ankle deep inslush. Suddenly the odor of hot bread was wafted to him from a ittic rest;iurant cavern below the sidewalk. He remembered he had eaten no breakfa.'t, and it aroused a su(i, 'en sense of hunger. He ran (|uickly down the steps. The small dining room was remarkably dean. He sat down with a sense of satis- faction which seemed alien to such a place. "firing me coffee and a steak, a first-clnss steak done rare," he order- ed. "Cook it carefully." , He was alone in the small room. It was quiet except for the shrill Voices of children on the sidewalk. He had not known a moment of peace or solitiiile fin- months. All his life he hail scoffer at nerves as a delusion Ho wondered if ho had been wTong whether nerves mifrht not be a sbjrn reality. If they weie, he had them. His mind went fla.'-.hing over the events of the past fortnight, since the night, when, weary, harassed, and hopeless, he returned from Montreal to be met by Dorcas with the news that Merry had returned and was leady to begin rehearsals. It still exasperated him when he remembered how sluibbornly she had refused de- tails of Andrew's homo coming. All ho learned was that the actor hp,l seen Oswald and was rehearsing from morning till night. A few days later in the foyer of the CJotham, when he came face to face with Merry, the plan of their future intercourrc was determined insluntly. Wentworth had been in a mood to welcome rcconeiliatiop and friendship; Andrew was cold, court- eous, and singularly iniapproachablo. Enoch's warmth was chilled and his pride aroused. IIo plunge. I fiercely into work, scarcely snatching time to eat or sleep. More than once Oswald hiul remonati-ated; he could see that the man waa workin,g beyond ihe imit of human eapneity. WcM-k waa the only thing that would whip ro- tre::pcc'cion from his mind. I>rink had never been a temptation to Wentworthâ€" it w i nothing but a sr-e issue to sociability â€" so ho did not lake to it now. He realized ho was lo.-i- ing old friends; he had tosse 1 one of I hem aside to-day. The Intuition which la bred by n guilty conscience began to play strange pranks with him. He felt ai^ if Oswald h«d guessed his secret and was driving him into n corner by the suggestion that he remodel the play. lie Baw Dorcau each day grow colder -SN After-Harvest Cultivation, fly the time the last cultivation has boeji given the corn and root fields thero Is usually one of more fields on the farm from which the season's har- vest has been gathered. The aim on j many farms is to give such fields, as I are not seeded down, some form of I tillage during the early fall. This used I to bo the general practice, but of late years It appears to be going out of vogue. Scarcity of labor is one reason why the amount of early fall cultl- I vatlon Is decreasing. The acrt^age de- I voted to corn has Increased greatly of ; ref'ent years, and the harvesting of this Important crop commences soon I after the grain crop is garnered and encroaches somewhat on the time previously used in stirring the surface soil. I j Cultivation at the right time is one of the most effective means of keeping ' noxious weeds In check and when the surface soil is loosei.ed the evapora- I tlon of moisture Is reduced to a mlnl- ' mum. By capillary action of the soil, moisture I9 being continually drawn from the great reservoir to the sur- face for the use of growing crops. i Tho plants shfJe the ground and there i Is very little moisture lost by direct I evaporation, but so soon as the crop 1 Is harvested there Is nothing to check the escape of water fiom the soil un- "Silver Gloss'* Canada's finest Lamndry Starch Three feneratloni of Cuiadlan housewives hive u»ed "Silver Gloss" (or all their home laundry work. They know that "Silver Gloss" always gives the best rssults. At your grocer's. THE CANADA STARCH CO. LIMITED â- oalntt Cirdlnil, Irtittwd, FortWIHlMk Miiktri !â- / "Orou'n Braruf rxitit "LOv in.iW Corn JvnijM, and B<n*on'» Com SlarcK ZiA I and more suspicious. Merry at one I glance had thrust him outside the paje of acquaintanceship. Wiihin ben I <lays "The House of Esterbrook" would have its first production. Enoch shivered with apprehension I as he thought of it. .\ queer thing had loomed up in his mind during the past few days. A decade ago a club friend with a fad for palmistry had insisted on reading his hand. The man prophesied a physical and moral ' downfall in the course of 12 years. Wentworth laughed at the idea, forgot it completely, then one night the memory of it came to him like a shot. He would have given all he possessed to return to the morning when Merry burst in upon him full of gaiety and hope. He could not go back; it was like unsnarling a tangle of sbring when one found no visible end where the task could be commenced. I He was aroused by a clatter of dishes. The waiter set the breakfast before him. As he ate he laid a morning paper on bhe table and be- gan to rea<l; there had been no chance earlier in the day to glance at it. The first thing his eye fell upon was a ' column al>out ""The House of Ester- brook." The public seemed to await the production with unusual anticipa- tion. Merry had the enthusiastic fol- lowing which is so often bestowed up- on an erratic, lovable genius. Went- worth's fame as a journalist was of long standing, and O.swfcld, English- man as he was, had already won friends among newspaper men. Went- worth read it q.iickly, then he turned to the news of the day. Nothing in- terested himâ€" the sparkle had gone out of life as the bead liies on cham- pagne. He drank a second, then a third cup of strong coffee, which acted upon him as whiskey does on some men. (To be cohtiiiued). less a dust mulch Is made by some | means of cultivallcn. It may seem ab-, surd to commence In August to save! moisture for the following season's crops. However, In the average sea- son It Is necessary, as only about one-' half the amount of moisture required to grow and mature a crop falls dur-j Ing the growing season. The fall, win- ter and spring rains must be depended \ upon to fill the soil with molsturo to I furnish the crop with a drink when It i most requires It. The soil should be! looked upon as a great reservo'r. that not only contains plant food, but also] holds vast quantities of water. With- 1 out water the plant food does not be-i coma readily available and the plant soon wilts. It is the duty of the tiller of the soil to make conditions right j for the filling of this reservoir with water as well as plant food, and late ' summer or early fall Is not too soon' to commence. A hard, compact sur- , face soli does not absorb the rains that come as readily as a soil with j good tilth. Of course, a soil covered ^ I with a luxurlan growth of clover or other growing crop, that completely^ I covsrs the surface. Is in a condition to j make the best use of the water that j falls. The bare stuble field require* I to be gone over with plow, cultivator ! or disk. I I Then, there Is the weed problem. Many annual weeds ripen their seeds I before tho grain Is harvested. These seeds fall to the ground, and It the ; soil Is stirred many will germinate and 'then be destroyed with later cultlva- I tlon. There are also varieties of! I weeds that appear to grow up and ' [ produce seed after the crop Is harvest-' i ed. Ragweed Is a representative of I this class. Many of the perennial I wee3s as twitch grass, sow thistle land bladder campion can be material- , ly checked In their growth if not en- ; tlrely eradicated by thorough after- harvest cultivation. Usually there are several weeks of dry. hot weather at this season which soon (Testroys any , roots exposed to the surface. More fall cultivation would aid In lessening I the numbers of weeds and with many ! soils would tend to Increase the crop I yields. i Time to Cultivate. 1 It Is important that the work be done I as soon as possible after the crop la I removed from the field. On some farms this phase of the season's work Is considered to be so Important that the binder Is followed with the disc or cultivator. This Is not practicable on most farms owing to the lack of sufficient horse power and men. How- ever, the work should be done soon after the crop Is removed from the field. It 1b not uncommon, especially, In a catchy season, to so9 the cultl-' vator or plow being used between tho ' rows of stooks. The sooner the work Is done tho greater the opportunity ^ of conserving soil moisture and of des troying weeds. I Methods of Cultivation Followed. The gang plow Is the Implement ) most generally used. It can be set to' cut and turn a shallow furrow. If carefully handled every weed will be cut and turned under, thus exposing the roots to the hot rays of the sun.! This Is an advantage when it is de-^ sirlous of destroying weeds with run- ning root stocks. The plowed land should be harrowed a couple of timesi to form a mulch. Where weeds ar* bad, a broad'share cultivator can bei effectively used. If time will pcrmlt.j a cultivation every week should be given a weed infested field that has' been gang-plowed. Careless plowing! and failure to cultivate will not tend to eradicate weeds. Where It is not thought advisable to use the plow, two or three times over the field with a sharp disk wlU pulverize the soil and put it in a con- dition so that moisture will be absorb- ed and retained and weeds will com-' menca growth. The spring or »tlff-i toothed cultivator has also been used to good advantage on the bare stubble field. It a month or more elapses bfr' tween breaking the crust and deep' fall plowing there will likely be a crop( growing which will Indicate the num-' ber of weed seeds which have started' growth only to be destroyed before they have an opportunity of reproduc- ing themselves. Without cultivation many of these seeds would never have germinated until the following spring where, under shelter of the growing crop they would have a better oppor- tunity to complete their life cycle. Fields not In clover, grass or other^ crop are benefitted by tall cultivation. Invariably the fields that have been' cultivated plow easier In the fall, es- pecially when the weather sets In dry. True, It may be a slight disadvantage In a wet season as It Is possible tor a field to be too wet to plow, but this U| the exception, not the rule. Too few, plowmen use a "jointer" or "skimmer", on their plow when giving a field ItB final plowing for the season. By lt« use all growth Is turned under and^ not only does the furrow have a tH'ttei*^ appearance, but weeds and grass are' completely buried. Without the light tew plants survive long. A more gen- eral use of this small attachment to the plow would aid In keeping th« fields freer from plants, which may be termed soll-robbera. In some sections, after-harvest cultl-' vatlon consists in plowing deep, and following up with surface cultivation until winter sets In. Sod, as well as stubble fields, aro treated this way. As soon as time will permit after the hay or grain Is removed the fields to be broken up In the tall are plowed the u.sual depth, varying from five to seven or eight Inches, depending on the nature of subsoil. It Is essential that a skimmer be used on the plow. These fields are gone over with the cultivator or disc and harrows several times during the fall. No growth Is allowed to get a start and uiany weeds aro destroyed. This niethcnl has proved quite effective In dealing with sow thistle. -.^ .1^ til/ ,1^t ..^l.-.-ai. ^ . «! .^i^l.-â€" -^.,g,-u.. lUHlNTS Here's the Way to Succeed in Jam or Jelly Making. loâ€" Use ripe â€" but not over- ripe fruit. 2oâ€" Buy St. Lawrence Red Diamond Extra Granulated Sugar. It is guaranteed pure Sugar Cane Sugar, and free from foreign substances which might prevent jelHes from setting and later on cause preserves to ferment. 3oâ€" Cook well. 4oâ€" Clean, and then by boiling at least 10 minutes, sterilize your jars perfectly before pouring in the preserves or jelly. Success will surely follow the use of all these hints. . We advise purchasing the Red Diamond Elxtra Granulated in the 1001b. bags which as a rule is the most econo- mical way and assures absolutely correct weight. PRESeRVIN(^ .^USELQNLY ^D'DIANldfSD <S Dealers can supply the Red Diamond in either fine, medium, or coarse grain, at your choice. Many other handy refinery sealed packages to choose from. St. Lawrence Sugar Refineries, Limited, Montreal I