The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

 I 1 i» l' STELLA: OR, AT CROSS PURPOSES. CHAPTER XXII. (Continued.) Walter stood by the billiard-table idly knocking the balla about with hia hand, and yawning at intervals as though he was bead beyond description. "Walter," said his brother, suddenly stopping short before him, " I hope you are going to behave well to that poor little thing." " What poor litlte thing, Kdgar?" was the listlesa reply. ♦' You Know very well who I mean â€" Miss Finch." "What has Miss Finch to do with me » She is probably going to dieâ€" such a nuis- ance a death in a house is " Sir Edgar winced. "I cannot believe yoa to be so heartless and 80 unfeeling as you make yourself out," he said, indignantly. " The very .fact of your remaining here proves that you are not insensible to the danger she is in." " Does it " he said, carelessly. "Walter, I do hope and trust if â€" if â€" when she gets well, you mean to marry the poor girl. Do, pray, be open with me about it. I am only anxious that you should do what is right, and I will make you an allow- ance it will not te very much, but it will be as much as I can afford, to enable you to marry her and live quietly." " My dear fellow," said Walter, with a lazy laugh, " you are really very good, but I haven't the slightest intention of marrying the children's governess " " You have allowed her to love you you have caressed her, and you have not offered to marry her " cried Sir Edgar, hotly and indignantly. " I cannot believe you to be so unmanly." W^alter laughed again. "Do you suppo3e I have offered to marry every woman I have kissed in my life I should have had enough to do if I had " with a sneer. " Girls should be able to take care of themselves, and not allow them- selves to be kissed." " But she is so young, and timid, and weak " said Edgar "she does not under- stand how to take care of herself surely Walter, you will not be so base as to take advantage of her youth and inexperience " "Really, Edgar, you seem to take a re- markable interest in Miss Finch and her doings. I am sure, my dear fellow, I did not know I was poaching in your preserves." Sir Edgar colored deeply. "You know very well that I am engaged to Lady Honoria," he said, gravely. " Yes, of course, and that being the case, suppose we leave little Lily Finch alone â€" I 11 look after her if I can. I'm sorry she is ill, and still more so if I should be the cause of her illness but these sort of girls don't die of a broken heart and as to marrying her, why, there are many good reasons against it. I dare say the mother will look alter her and if I w re you, I wouldn't risk Lady Honoria's Jisfleasure by display- ing your interest in her '/uile so plainly." He laughed good-naturedly and rathar scornfully, and Sir Edgar turned away, feel- ing that there was little that he could say in answer to him, and hoping in his heart that Walter made himself out to be worse than he really was. CHAPTER XXIII. A WHITE HYACINTH. But Lily did not die she battled through her disease with all the strength ot her healthy constitution and her twenty sum- mers, and came back again, poor child, to all the vexed questions and the unspeakable sorrows of her life. Lidy Dyson had made her plans she had not been idle whilst she had been wait- ing upon her, and now, when Lily was strong enough to bear it, she proceeded to unfold to her what she had determined upon doing with her. The first time that Lily sat up, pale, and thin, and weak, in a big arm-chair, drawn up before the fire, Lady Dyson came into her room and took her kindly by the hand, " Dear ine this is famous to see you up â€" how do you feel, my d?; r I" Lily smiled gently and gratefully. " Very much better Oh Lady Dyson, how can I ever thank you enough for all your goodness to me " and her eyes filled with tears. "Oh never mind that, Lily â€" of course I have done what I could â€" and now you must be a good girl, and do what I tell you without any fuss," " I will do anythiag you wish, Lady Dy- son." "That is right, my dear. Well, Lily, I have determined to send you away to the seaside." The look of startled dismay in Lily's face told Lady Dyson instantly how distasteful the idea was to her. She went en, hurriedly " Yes, 1 think an immediate change will be a great thing for you. You would not, of course, be able to resume your studies for a long time, probably not for three months, Dr. Graham says but I have de- termined that I will engage somebody tem- porarily to teach the children, so that you may be able to return to me when you are well enough." " You are ve;y, very kind," murmured Lily. " What I have settled to do is to send you to an old nurse of mine, who is married and settled at Sandyport in Essex â€" she keeps lodgings â€" it is a quiet little place, but very healthy, and I hope you wdl soon pick up your health and strength there. I shall send Barnes down with you, and shall pay tor you all the time you are there you shall have no expenses and no worries â€" nothing, in fact, to do bnt to get stronp." " How very good you are," said Lily, and yet the poor child looked up at her wistfully and longingly there was some- thing terrible to her in this sentence of exile from Barfield. " And you will let me come back here afterwards, Lady Dyson " she asked, timidly. Lady Dyson smiled, and smoothed down the folds of her rich silk dress. "Well," she answered, "not exactly here, my dear, because there are to be some changes in the family. I and the children are going to live at a smaller house in the neif^hb^ring county, Satley Manor â€" yoa must have beard us mention it it belongs to me, bat it has been let of late years, bat now I am going to live there it is there you will come back to us." Lily, pale and weak as she was, sat up in her arm-chair, clasping her hands;.nervously together, " What I" she cried, tremblingly, and her eyes were full of startled dismay. " Oh\ what do you mean, Lady Dyson " " My dear, do not be excited," answered the elder lady, laying her hand gently upon her shoulder " it is nothing to make you look so frightened, child. You must be told sooner or later, my dearâ€" Sir Edgar is going to be married," aiid in spite of her- self, Lady Dyson felt that her heart filled with pity and compassion aa she spoke the fatal words. Lily sank back, white and trembling, among her pillows for an instant Lady Dyson thought she was going to faint, and she reached out her hand for the salts- bottle, but Lily pushed back her hand gently, and a sudden crimson glow flooded her thin face. "No, thank you, I don't feel illâ€" Iâ€" I hope he will be very happy. Lady Dyson." "Yes, my dear, I hope so too," she an- swered, infinitely relieved by the girl's quiet voice and manner. She had dreaded a scene, but evidently Lily was going to take the news well and bravely. "Is it Lady Honoria?" said Lily pres- ently. "Yes, it is Lady Honoria; I think she will made him a good wife, and it is a most suitable marriage in every way." "I think she loves him," said Lily, slowly, " and I am very glad it is her." Then there was a long silence. Lily rested her cheek upon her hand, and gazed long and abstractedly into the fire Lady Dyson sat by her, watching her somewhat apprehensively. It was strange how much her heart had' become drawn towards the poor, little despised governess whom she had nursed through her illness, and how sorry she felt for her. Lady Dyson could not help acknowledging to herself that Lily was behaving wonderfully well, and she felt so grateful to her for not fainting or going into hysterics, or behaving generally like a love-sick maiden, that she even lean- ed forward and kissod her. Lily drew a long shivering sigh, and turned to her. "And he will be married when I come back to you. Lady Dyson " she asked. " Yes, my dear. It is better so, don't you think so?" " Very likely â€" oh 1 yes it is far better. Lady Dyson," with a slight flush â€" "may I see him once before I go " " No, my dear, I think not." " There is something I would like to say â€" only a few words." " I don't think it would be wise, Lily I am afraid I cannot allow it." Her head sank back with a little sigh, and her eyes closed. She said nothing more, and Lady Dyson, after sitting quietly by her side for some minutes, fancied she must have dropped oft to sleep. So she crept slowly away on tiptoe out of the room, and left her alone. W^hen she w.as gone Lily eyes opened once more, and fixed tnemselves again with a cold, miserable stare upon the flames. " Never to see him again," she murmured, " never to tell him that he was mistaken â€" that I was not false or untrue to him. Oh it is hard but perhaps it is better for me I must learn to live without himâ€" it will be better to begin at once." Meanwhile, Lady Dyson had found her son below in his library an open letter was in his hand. He turned quickly to his mother as she entered. ' ' How is she â€" how has she borne the move to the armchair " he asked, eagerly. " Oh very well, indeed I think she is in a fair way to get well now. Dr. Graham recommends her going to the seaside." " Of course, that will be the best thing for her. I have had a letter from Lord Alches- ter, mother, and one from Honoria, too, they want me to go over for a few days I 8uppc8 3 1 had bet.er go " "Certainly, you had better go. You ought to have gone before, Edgar." " Yes, perhaps. Mother, when will Miss Finch go to the sea, do you think "' "Oh! not before Saturday. To-day is Monday. She will not be strong enough to move till the end of the week." " Very well, then, I will go to Alchester Towers to-morrow, and be back on Friday. The fact is, I want to see !Miss Finch before she goes away." " My dear boy, you cannot possibly do her any good. I do not see the object of it," "I mean to see her," he answered so de- cidedly that Lady Dyson knew he was de- termined to have his own way. She was dreadfully afraid of that interview. Good and docile as Lily was, who coull tell what she might not say or do to upset Sir Elgar's engagement were she to be alone with him " I do not see what good you can do her," s'aa repeated. " It will only be making her ill again for cothlng She is very weak stil." " She will be stronger by Friday," an- swered Sir Edgar quietly. And Lady Dyson was clever enough to raise no further objection. Sir Edgar went away en the morrow. What he intended to have said to Lily on his return he probably hardly knew himself. Be fere he went away he was weak enough to go into the empty school-room, where he had so often spoken words of love to her, and where his last sight ot her had been, alas encircled by the arms of his own brother. His heart smote him as he stood once more in the dingy, deserted little room. All the children had been sent away, as a mat- ter of precaution, directly their governess had been taken ill. The chairs were ranged against the wall, the books were all packed away upon the shelves there was no pleas- ant litter of copy-books and slates upon the table. Edward Dyson turned away sadly and mournfully from the familiar room. Would he ever see her again, he wondered, the poor little girl whom he had loved so fatally, and whose weakness and frivolity had pre- vented her from being true to him Poor little thing I she loved him, doubtless a little. She was sorry, very likely, by this time for what she had done but it was too late now. He sighed deeply. The brougham stood at the door to take him to the station his mother was in the hall to wish him good-bye. He kissed her, and listened to her parting words absently and not very attentively, and stood for a minute at the open door putting on his gloves. It was a balmy AprU day. Outside along along the house wall was a long, close-set row of white hyacinths just in bloom, ine warm, heavy scent came up in a deliciOTS whiff of fragrance to where he stood. Me glanced up at a certain closed window at the farther comer of the house. Did any breath of spring flowers creep into that sick room he wondered "You wiU be late, Edgar," said his mother; â- , ^^. a He stooped down suddenly, and gathered one of the delicate waxen blossoms, and stepped back hurriedly into the house. " Mother," he said, in a low voice, so that the servants might not hear them, "give her this, and tell her that I shall see ber when I come home." He thrust the flower into her hand, and turning hastily ran away, sprang into the carriage, and in another instant was gone. As to Lady Dyson, she stood for some minutes alone in the hall, contemplating the white blossom in her hand. She turned it slowly over and over, as though she ex- pected to find out some hidden meaning in its pure and stainless petals. " The height of folly " she said to her- self, at last. " But I don't suppose it can do much harm." And then she took the hyacinth up-stairs, and laid it upon Lily's lap, "Sir Edgar has gone away, and he has tent you this." she said to her. But she spoke no words about his intend- ing to see Ler when he came back. That was not at all in the programme that Lady Dyson had laid out for the disposal of Lily Finch and her love troubles. After she had given her the flower she was charitable enough to leave her alone and when she was gone, Lily lifted the little peace-ofl"ering to her lips, and burst into a flood of tears as she pressed it to her face. " It was to wish me good-bye," she said to herself, brokenly. "And he had for- given me but he will never see me again " And, like a tired child, poor Lily sobbed herself to sleep. CHAPTER XXIV. AN KVENIXG MEfETING. There was a ferment of unwonted excite- ment at Wrexham Hall. There were people coming and going, boxes and parcels arriv- ing from London, a perpetual chattering amongst the women-folk of the establish ment, for the wedding preparations for the Ist of May were in lull swing. Mr. King had been liberal to his granddaughter in the matter of trousseau, and there came down from London many beautiful and costly gar- ments for the bride-eleat. Cecily was not at all above being genuine- ly delighted and interested by this part of the proceedings. "1 wonder whether any woman ever fot a trousseau for her marriage in such a queer way before ' she said to herself more than onoe, with a keen sense of the ludicrous, which no stings from hor slumbering con- science could serve to stifle, as she bent over the rich satin which Stella was unpacking, and echoed her own warm admiration of its delicate beauties. Poor Stella 1 she tried hard to be pleased and happy, but it was dreadful work g ling about with a smiling face with that never- ceasing pain at her heart. "I shall get used to it in time," she would say to herself, " and dearly aa I love them both, it ought to be easy enough. I must be very wicked not to rejoice more in my only sister's bappiness " And then, with a pang, she remembered that, but for that foolish, childish freak long ago at Valency, when she had deceived her mother for the sake of an hour of stolen and doubtful pleasure, she, Stella, might have been in Cecily's place to-day. "He took a disgust to me then, and no wonder and then my dreadful temper did the rest. But for that, he m-ght have cared for me." And the sting of it all was the knowledge that her own folly had cost her her life's happiness. Surely no silly, unreasoning escapade of early girlhood had ever been more dearly paid for Daring these days Noman went and came between London and Wrexham, and saw but little of the two sisters for when he was at home he was closeted chiefly in Mr. King's library, where there was a great over- hauling of family deeds and papers, and where the great question of settlements was supposed to be under discussion.. How painfully and terribly anxious Cecily felt during these conferences, and how in- tensely she longed to know how things were being arranged, no one could ever say. So great was her anxiety, indeed upon the sub- ject, that, clever actress as she was, she could not quite succeed in hiding it from Stella's nbtice. " I would not think about it, Cecily, if I were you," her sister could not help saying to her once, after Cecily's impatience con- cerning the settlements had betrayed itself almost too plainly. " I don't think it looks very well for a girl to think so much about the money when she is just going to be married." " Do you suppose he is making his will " was Cecily's only rejoinder, "I dare say, dear. But \»*sat does it matter You know very well that grandpa will behave well to you. You and Norman will be very well off. I don't think the de- tails can matter very much." " You know nothing about it " she cried, impatiently and then, with a nervous laugh, she added " He might leave every- thing to Norman and nothing to me " " Well," replied Stella, smiling, " since Norman is to be ycur husband, that would not matter much. Of course everything that is his is yours also." "That might not always be the case. Suppos" we were to separate?" " To separate! Good heavens I Cecily," cried Stella, aghast, " Fancy talking about separation, when you are only to be married in a week " " Oh I was only joking, of course." But she sighed, and looked so thoroughly worried, that Stella felt quite uneasy about her. not knowing what to make of her. Far away, among the green slopes of the park, was an ancient and ruined tower. No one quite knew what had been its original purpose, nor who, in the generations that were passed away, had baUt it there. It was jast a round stone tower, with a low doorway, and no remaini of windows. The roof had long fallen in, bat thick bashes and a young mountain-ash had planted their roots in the scanty dust of the crumbling walls, and had roofed it in with grtenery from the rain and the sun. A small coppice surrounded it, and there was no pathway through the tangled nettles and briars that had grown up in wild disorder on every side of *• â-  • 1 1 i. It was within the shelter of this desolate building chat a man stood waiting one even- ing, just after dusk, with his tiands iu his pockets, and a short black pipe in his irouth. Every now and then he stooped down and looked out of the low doorway, and then he knocked out the ashes of his pipe against the rough stone wall, and replaced it be- tween his lips. _, "She can't even be punctual now,' be muttered, angrily, to himself " it's too bad having to hang about in a damp, beastly hole like this, in the dark. I shan't stand ii-ore of it, so I can tell her. Hallo here you are at last I'm so sick of waiting for you " The tall dark figure of a woman, wrapped in a long cloak, came towards him, brush- ing through the undergrowth of the wood. " I am sorry, Walter, I could not get away Norman " " Yes â€" yes always the cousin, I know," he interrupted roughly. " I'll tell you what, I am dead sick of the whole thing I hate all this maneuvring and plotting, and I am bored to death with hanging about this country doing nothing. Money or no money, I shall cut it and go back to Paris it you don't like to come, you may stop here by yourself." Unseen in the darkness, Cecily's eyes filled with tears. She had no great power of loving anybody, but such heart as she had to give, certainly belonged to this man who, alas for her, had neither truth nor honor, nor any single h'gh principle in his worthless character. "I don't think you are very kind," she said, reproachfully, " when you know how hard I am working for your future welfare and benefit." He laughed roughly. "Yes, you are getting a fine trousseau for yourself, and a handsome lover into the bargain " " Why, 1 do believe you are jealous, Walter " " Not I but the farce is a little too good. How long, pray, is it going to last?" " Only a few days longer." " And how, pray, are you going to end it?" " I will tell you," she said " listen." She drew his face down to hers, and whis- pered something in his ear. Walter Dyson stepped back a pace or two. " Upon my word, you are a bold woman " he said, and there was a tone of startled and not very flattering admiration in his voice. "I suppose you know you might deserve some very ugly names if any one knew " " No one is ever likely to know but you and you are not likely to betry me." "And if it fails?" "I don't think it v i,l if it does, of course I must come to jou all the same, and the game will be lost." "And the will." " The will is all right the money is left to me in my own name absolutely the house to Norman. I have only found it out to-nightâ€" Norman has just told me it is all drawn up ready it is only waiting to be sigued." " It is not signed, then Why not ' " It is a fancy of the old man's he will not sign it till the evening before the wed- ding. There is an old cousin coming down from town, and Norman tells me he has a fancy that he should witness the will, so it will not be signed till then that is why I can do nothing till the very day. But it will only make the shock the greater. What- ever happens, do not forget eight o'clock in the morning with your dog- cart in the road behind the wall of the orchard wet or tine, I will be there." "And glad enough I shall be to be off," said the young man. He was slightly mollified by this time, and had passed his arm round her waist he bent down and kissed her carelessly. He was selfish and heartless and unprincipled, but after all he admired her, and her pluck and daring filled him with a certain amount of resoect for her cleverness and cunning. Cecily went home with a heightened color and a beating heart. Meanwhile, all uiiknown to her, within this very hour the fates had already decided against her. "Whilst she had been speeding noiselessly and swiftly to her tryst with Walter Dyson in the deserted tower, Dr. Graham's gig had almost by accident turned in at the Wrexham Gates. The doctor was a privileged and valued friend. As he entered unannounced into Mr. King's private room, Stella rose from her knees by the old man's side, and slipped quietly from the room. "That is my granddaughter, doctor," said Mr. King, in explanation. "She is very prettyâ€" prettier than her sister, I think. Is she the one who is going to be married next week " " No, it is the younger one." "Ah! yes," said Dr. Graham, almost in- voluntarily " the one who called upon mo, I remember now." Mr. King looked at him in surprise. "Called upon you, did she? What was that for Was she ill " " No she was not ill she called to ask nie about youâ€" about your health. I thought she seemed very fond of you, and very anxi- ousâ€"affectionate sort of girl, I should say. It was one evening late, about a month ago she came. J could not think who she was at first. I suppose the girl is very fond of you, Mr. king?" ' "Umph!" said Mr. King, and looked straight )n front of him lor some minutes without speaking then he roused himself with an effort, and spoke to the doctor about some change in his medicine. There were a few commonplace words between them, and then Dr. Graham rose to go. "Can I do anything for you, Mr. King '" he inquired, cheerily, as he stood buttoning up his coat. ham^°" " ^°^°* ^^'^^ *° Loughton, Gra- " Yes, instantly." " Then would you please tell Norris, as you go by, to jump on hu horse and come over here to me at once he is to come «- etantly rememberâ€" not to lose a moment's time. Ko?T' ' Norri. wa« the aoUeitor who had drawn up Mr. King*! wiU. He sat for â- ome time after the doctor's departure plunged in thoaght. ^^ will himself. ' "lake thinirs ... Stella in trust money 'liall'bc"'..'»ii to Norman ICe'.^ot^^'t^Jf^M Stella entirely irCeTi?;^^;;^;:?^ I engagement, the ' -â-  " °*«iifit ' " [ltBMi»t be b« ferreting about to fioH o. ^^'C^^ likely to li^-elbutrii "'°»WY, yet." And the o'd m "'"i »itl " ously to himself '"'â- ^ '^^^iiilA And th^ncameMr X,„- -Good-evening, Norri;""'.^»W turning to him as he el ^^ ' W i matter of busme.., K^^^f- "h^ I Iamgoingtoadd;cSii;:^Jjt^| TO the lolljr,: to P:'.-e The Cholera in i^^, Aletterfrom Cairo to thpT^ j ' i says Dr. Schatfey Bey Ih """'HJ the origin ot the outbreak nf^'^o: Damietta, has i.«sue i his r °'f» I giving an account o^ the i]ST- â-  unsanitary state of tie t.,wn ""^t:' mode of life of the. mhabit.nt. s'lV' ' finally conclude.s that the the"'/.',; 'J*' portation of the disease, fr,,,n ul " â- ' ' gether untenable, and he d aVi^^^ elusions as follows ""' "P hu " We find that, besides ihe point,. â-  noted, which stamp D umetta as ?!"*•: an unclean town, there are circumstances to be considerej " 1. The mouth of a river dried -ni longed drought, with its banks Ja ^^" Its muddy bed fermented under /^" action, exposed. '^•"â- ^i " 2. The river carrying along with it depositing them at the b.na foâ„¢ " Damietta) thousands of carc-^Vs of j which it throws up at its edges under the damp heat. ".3. It is at this place that the ri ceives the outcome of the drains anim ' vegetable refuse, and all sorts of filtU.'^- the current can not carry off, beine h'" back by the waves of the sea. '" "4. The miasmata generated by a' putrefying matter here mixes wtt'"' vegetable effluvia rising from themaiv:^ from a soil full of organisms, and from- wide rice-fields which surround thetovi"' "'). It is the water of this riverird- supplied all the needs of most of theittj" itants and of more than titteen thoir persons from various parts of Egypt" »â- " assembled at Damietta lor eight comec-S days at the fair of Sheikh Abou e! ib- An analysis of this water by the govenn-- expert proves it to teem with impuritie." " G. During the eight days of the ii- regular orgies were held, exclusively cit:. flesh of animals who died of bovine tvprj and whose skins now fill the store-iioi-e: the town. "7. It was inimeJiaitly after the ii;.-;;. the disease broke out. "S. The l'.ll;h, 20th, and iht ot .:;;: were m-.rked here y a sudden rise o'te: perature. " !J. The epidemic broke out c'aif.*ir;: in- most unhealthy and tnickly p^zs.:. quarter, inhauited by the poor, wno driL; only the water of the river and canal. " 10. The disease remained lor some: :i locilizsd at Damietta before spreac.;; further, and its spread was invariably isu; towns on the river, or carried by sick ei grants from Damietta, as proved bj ::â- . towns of Port Said, Alexandria, isaali and Suez. " These facts seem to prove that the-;:; conditions^ cosmic and bydrctelluric, wl:: are present at the genesis of cholera eers in the Indian delta and on the banks o: " Ganges, were accidentally observable:: year in the Egyptian delta and on theii:^ of the Nile." There is much more of interest in ties- port, but the above extracts give the p;::: it. From personal knowledge of thewr. of Dimietta I am able to vouch for ties.' curacy of the description of it. A to V.-- remarks on the water supply, theyhoUgK^ more or less in regard to any town in 10- It is probable that Dr. Hunter, on his retr. from the inspection he is now making, f.. be able to add further to our knoffleage the cradle from which cholera spran.' i::^ year. A parliamentary p-iper hat beenia::- containing a report irom Surjeon wn^" Hunter to S;r Edward Malet nnthechof.' epidemic in Egypt. Tiie report, w^;^ dated Cairo, Aug. G, states that i-; simply an abuse of words to talk of saai- tion in connection with Cairo, every sanit. hw being grossly set at Jeriince isi^^-^ that "conditions for the development ^- spiead of disease in almost every fcnH; Ij demic or otherwise, abound, il^i here, there, and everywhere pres«'" '"' sight, smell, and taste." Alter exp«-;^ the opinion that in all essential featare» -^ type of the epidemic does no""l"':jji cholera as it is experienced in India, :- (Janeral Hunter proceeds „j; "It is gratifying to be ablet. 2% the epidemic is on the wane, altno"K widespread over the co'?°""y i^, "uVles as usual in declining epidemics. .- -- ,^ tmber of deaths %^ Slat of Ji" severe. The numuer ui u«-».-- j^j^j disease reported up to the olst" • â- â- :gistrationis,ho«.^ so defective that this statem^ent^ ^^; said to be 12,600 so defective that tins staieu taken with much reservation, lam .^^ to think that it is nearly '^P.^"V" rtii!" The organization of the medical aev ^^j is in a most primitive condition, » ' quite incompeteflt- latter are broaaiy accuser v. â€" ^, -jfsojs and of neglecting their duty tli'"""^£Lic«r fear. That there are many ^0°"^^"^^^ ' tions to this rule I believe ne^en ^^ ^,, allegations preferred have come w jj sonal knowledge. In V^^^t vr^Wi ,das8isted b} temper at ided action cious Chin tnculties in jased and d moral cou lief. If. 0° ,d openly res rs of Toe gent enter lOre formidah ance would e victory its feat. For v these risks led the Anai j made the ebreaks ar ng to do nc 0n seriously i |o and live in Rench do nol itions are m fcve no aptiti lare at home â-  JTonquin w «g Algiers the '" cial possess if of official fficient tra .6 nearest ops, but th( worth whili That has all Buch greatei Itore? The feveris government b be limited ani wish. To get ibout some o. leads to diffi( has so many c wy disturbai In every Eui Bore clear th tel goes beyo] point, our ov Itriously mer ire at stake c kcw to submi io resulting icarcely rega ance of the does the mis( substantial occasions. C( in detail on lieneral ten( largely modi: acts. The stand alone, does not forg drift of Fren with the iDo Iry for no ot obvious inter gascar exped CD the west â- various little tign office sii Iforth Ameri tered a seve: She French v most every tion to whicl plained by â-  French press for many ye; ill regard to preesion of a conduct, whi( ing an ilbfee there has bei Bat there Is l« drawn frc iionition. people that 1 down the wc ^egree to th^ ID Europe, particulary inarks of th It is Euffici tad are of a greased, eve bon to a ^nat 18 th â- frenchmen i 'l»at exped i tlie semi-ofi] *o address '?idely remi •ittle in Eur '"ley may whether the I'on be not 1 'fitter away policy of rei T;: r ie^i^-' â- dge. in V^^'^r-'v,^V» this I would observe that "f jZ/jrH' soldiers are loud in tiieir 'J'"f ",• oiii:ei5 devotion displayed by their hag' jg,; to their necessities during .[^rocg' crisis." Dr. Hunter suggests to ^j- leorganizition of the '"edicai n, and the establishment of a saniuu; ment. A fasuion item says that "^^""att:!' decorate many articles of '®^. ^jjere^ '° They appear painted or '""j jeffeUei?' dresses, enamelled on buttons ana J ^^^^^ and the real article is se«° nncip Heretofore "swallows" l^afJ in «"j decorated the mascuUne nose. »" f bo»» cases have garnished the "'/°ht^ with old hats. The new °8fJL.^3»' ar0 devoted is a gratifying cn^n town Herald. °f»ve man bravery too *» so rash [.•today, a "'m see her r^^-e believ "*d courage ^e orig 'a6»n, Mr. f^^e bough lf». as. w «t»we and **^»ifethi "*!». or fif **'t*keit.'