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,: 1 THE DEAN AD HIS AGHTER CHAPTER XLIV. That afternoon Ethel staer for Paris. She had somehow or other managed to pac‘ ify her Aldermen, and, in fact, left him on the best possible terms. I accompanied her to the station; and bade her an afi'ec- tionate farewelL “ We shall soon meet again, darling." were her last words; “ I hope to be back within ten days.” I returned to The Uplands with a sense of oppression that I could neither account for, nor yet shake off, and a sort of vague foreboding of evil to come. I suppose, in reality, it was the effect of Prince Balani- kofl’s strange warning. Lord Ashwell . ‘took me down to dinner that evening, and although, of course, he was kind and courteous, he yet studiously refrained from anything like saying a good deal “hm,a you. I cannot demonstrative attention, knowing my ob- 1 old strategists who are always besten,for the And this missive despetched, I proved its sincerity by falling asleep in a chair until the chambermeid roused me between eleven and twelve o'clock, and took my final orders for early departure. , All things have an endâ€"even the journey to Paris. Before starting. I went into a chemist’s shop and asked for a sleeping draught, and by way of letting the man see that I knew whet I was about, I told him that I was suffering from insomnia. He was a stout, good-natured man with a,J impenetrably stolid countenance. E asked permission to feel my pulse, ane then inquired whether I had ever tasted rum. I replied truthfully that I was cold familiar with it by the smell. “Then, madam,” said he, “try a little internally, and as hot as you can take it. It is a powerful soporific, and will send you to sleep at once. And as the aroma lingers in the breath, you had better let me put you up some musk lozenges." I burst out laughing. What an excellent against this must be put the fact that I was now an old strategist, and that it is the very simple reason that they follow stere- otyped rules of the game. and are conse- queutly unequal to a sudden emergency. The meeting was a little awkward. Of course there was mischief in the air, and I could not possibl tell what cards he might be holding in is hand. But I could see that his manner was embarrassed and uneasy. Therefore I ‘ conjectured the worst, end prepared myself to face it. One thing was evident, that he was in a highly excited and irritable mood, as, in fact. his very first words proved. “It is very unpleasant, Mrs. Gas- coigne," he said, “when unpleasant things like this happen. I suppose they must hap- pen sometimes, but for my own part I like to get them over. I have no Wish to put any question which may be painful to your- self, or which I have not a perfect right to put. But I believe you know old Sir Henry Craven. He is down here, and has been my lozenges, and further discharged my obligations by purchasingabottle of Eau de Cologne. I need only add that his advise was entirely correct. The Presi- auppose foramomem that he is teumg dent of the Royal College of Physicians . ‘ ..-.,..,.,.~" A....7......v..-... a... M... m H M q jection to our names being coupled together downriflht‘ lies- for the present, and. mindful of his pio- matter, and he may be, or he may not be m1" ‘0 me on the fillblect. wrong. I do not think very much of him. I was very glad indeed when the. time Butwhat he has said calls for an answer. arrived that it was possible for me to retire, é: ititkizggugsifg :9 “nsgeinth‘i‘glylaofi; . . _ im. ‘ forl felt thoroughly worn out With anxiety, for all this trouble, and I only hope to doubt, and a sort of dread of the unseen Heaven that, you can help me out of it," evil with which I was apparently threat- “You mean,” I said, “that my right ened. But when I got to bed no refreshing name is not Gascoigne- You mean that I . . once was Lady Craven. Well. You know sleep, nor, indeed, sleep of any kind, came to bring me relief, and I tossed about all my story as many other people know it. I could give you my own version of it, which night a prey to vague misgivings and un- pleasant refleotions. I lit my candle and 1 do not suppose you would believe for a moment, or allow to effect you in any way. tried to read, but I found it impossible to You muss take the tale as w has come to concentrate my attention for two minutes you would be sorry for me. But even the together, so that I was forced to give up {11:13 tlrntlftwfiuld 13:” texpgin 1W3? 311° ac s. qui e now a . on now e we “tempt as Impala" I got, up and facts, and you know the worst. The inter- paced up and down the room and tnen went There must be something in it. He may have his own view of the you. If you knew the whole truth of it himself could not possibly have given me better. I did not trouble myself with thinking. My mind was absolutely made up. I had closed the book of the past, and was going to begin life over again. Late, no doubt, I was, but as the proverb runs, “better late than never.” Gather your roses while you can. Or, as I fancy I remember Horace said, “Carpe diem, quam mini- mum credula postero.” From the Gare du Nord, where Ethel met me, bubbling over in her usual fashion. but as tender-hearted, sympathetic, and true as ever, we were driven hurriedly to the Rue Royals. By the time we had got there Ethel knew all I could tell her, not only with regard to what had taken place, but also to my plans for the future. “And you have'made up your mind, my dear, to do as he asks 2" “ Yes, I have thought it. over. I won'e say, as the Dean would, that I hav- prayed over the matter, but I have con- sidered it thoroughly. In. the first place I like Balanikoff : in the second place, be is a gentleman; in the third place, I mean to do as I choose. Don’t you remember my old yachting story of the bo’s’un: “If any man isn’t happy aboard this vessel, why, by the Lord, I’ll make him know what for.’ That’s my frame of mind, my dear. I’m aboard this vessel, and I’m perfectly happy.” “Of course you are,” she said; “and so am I. Good people always are.” About two months after these events, I received a very long and very characteristic letter from the Very Reverend the Dean of Southwick, He was in the most terrible distress. Wishing to add to his stipend, he had been induced to invest largely in the Consolidated British and Foreign General Financial Advance and Discount Company, which was to pay a minimum dividend of fifteen per cent. The Company had burst up. In other words, it was in liquidation, and was likely to remain so, aslong as there was a scrap of flesh left upon the grizzly bones for accountants, receivers, trustees, and other such unclean vultures to pick at. To avoid disgrace and exposure, he had been compelled to set aside twelve hundred a year out of his fifteen. world it would be if people would only be pleasant and tell the truth ! I took up dfvino will and he must bow to it. At the same time, I surely would not refuse out of my abundant income to aid him in this sore trial, and to enable him to have at his disposal, not the luxuries of life, for which he had never cared, but its stern and bare necessities. pretation of them is another matter.- I am to bed again, but, the result was precisely ready to interpret them, but cannot explain the ame. I could t slee do wh tI a no p. a “ Surely,” he said, “the matter is easy _ , _ enough. You were introduced to me as accept the iueVitable, and to remain awake Mm, Gggcojgne, and you came down here the whole night. 'as Mrs. Gascoigne. It now turns out that H ' H ' n h 01? ?w::e 1:1 Tg?’ y.“ “g” be to}? you are Lady Craven. he explanation of w y‘ "’8 e 88 “n m t e w" ' that is for yourself. It is the kind of thing which 1' do not understand, and to done in the morning, I always take the Which I am not accustomed.” t' l . mo? in; mud“ care “at to g: to bed on: My life has had a history, and the history go o e an you cfm never rPst-yo‘frse ' of my life cannot always be compressed You may sleep on like the princess in the into a. few sentences of space, are few minutes of time. I did not mean to have I “j” m no. hurry to figure .early that I whatever which, at this minute, I wish to morning. Being no longer a child or even keep or hide from you. That is an.» a girl, I knew that in the fresh light of “The whole thing,” he replied, looking dawn I should appear to disadvantage. at his boom and "Ob 8‘3 me, "is very . . _ uns tisf to . I t t me, “ one of these is the lime-light ; never of is. $2,, ridmit iifigoy::ea::Â¥,£abiaori let it fall upon you uuawares.“ Gascoigne. You admit that you are here, In this humor I went down to the‘to say the least, undera. misunderstanding grounds‘ I am not delimding my frame Of The difficulty in this case is most certainly mind. You may call it defiant, you may not, of my making}: call it what you please. It seemed to me “The difficulty need not trouble you,” I that I held an the cards in my own hand, cried. “In fact, it does not exist. Iabso- defence. You are dissatisfied with what only on the threshold of that delightful you have heard of me. Let, it be am You period. I consequently was restless, im- are going from this place, and so am I. patient, and in the very last temper calcu- Let “3 PM“ as If we had never met: and I“ . again.” Iwandered about the grounds until the bell in the turret of the tower to the stables rang out the signal for lunch. Ientered the room more or less heed- might be there, or who might not. I had in my owu mind reckoned up the company, and was not prcpsred for any addition to it. I was consequently fairly startled, â€"-entirely himself, with all his self- possession about him, looking almost twenty Kears younger than his age, hold- ing fort with the loquacity of agossip, evidently considering himself the heart, centre and focus of the entire companyâ€" no less a person than the husband whom I had once most solemnly vowed to ove, It was a distinctly difficult position. I was looking steadily at Sir Henry when he looked up, and our eyes met. I made himavery formal how, but it was intimated: “Try our worst. You andI know perfectly wel that the scabbard is thrown away. I do not expect quarter. and if you mean fighting, I can fightas themaway.” would, and I was finally compelled to you are not Mrs. Gascoi no at all, but that Whenever there is anything good to be “I had intended to tell you everything. wood.” any secret from you, and there is nothing “Avoid two things,” Ethel used to tell unfortunate, and I must also addâ€"very Misunderstardings are unpleasant things. and I was stlll not in the prime of life, but lutely decnne to be confldered as upon my lated to provoke or to encourage reflection. “8 take very great care never m meet lessly. It had never occurred to me who when, at the other end of the room, I saw and the assurance of a professor, and honor. and obey. with an expression in my face which well as yourself." CHAPTER XLV. I remember George Sabine once telling me how he got the best of a very abusive Yankee harbor-master. The Yank talked with every variety of oath. anecdote, abuse, and bias hemy for about an hour. "When." said reorge, “he had blown his wind and stopped spouting, I asked him whether that was al . He replied that it was. I then told him, not in these exact terms, that I was devotedly rateful to Providence.” My look at Sir eury was of much the same tenor. It meant, and it was intended to mean, “if you have a tongue so have I. If you talk, I can talk." And with this expression stereoty d into my features. I looked at him an waited for his look in return. I have always said I considered him a stupid man, but with a certain amount of pomp and management of detail when he might be fully prepared with all the cir- cumstances. And in this world, stupidity is apt to rank as wisdom purposely hidden undere veil of cunning and caution: Not knowing what to do, bir Henry did noth~ ing, but he also looked be less, helpless, and perfectly bewildered. .'ow a diploma- tist ought to be no one of these things. Luncheon over, I strolled away by my- self down to the river. It would be idle to pretend that I was not restless and uneasy. As I turned a corner among the infinite windings of the shrubberies there, face to face with me, stood Lord Ashwell In one respect, and in one only, Ihsd the advantage of him. I knew the very worst which he could certainly know, noth- ing be and what he might have picked up ands ded to by conjecture. I. inother tomorrow morning, words, have batteries in reserve; hates and," “I am sorry,” he replied ; “but I am afraid it must be so. 1 see no other way out of the matter. There are always troubles in this world and we have to face them. You can never tell when your turn may come, and when it does come, the only thing for you to do is to take your chance as best you can.” “You may be right,” I said, “and I dare say you are. The matter, however. is not one to be argued out between us. You had better see me as far as the house, and when I am in its shade, we can part. 'We shall probably never meet again, and we cer- tainly are not likely to break our hearts for each other. The world has room in it for the two of us, and our orbits in all human probability will never again cross.” W e walked back to the house side p by side withou t another word. I think if he had said it was a fine day or had asked me what were the chances of skating in the comingwinter, and whether I liked skatin , it would have driven me mad. But he dicgl nothing of the sort. His silence was phlegmatic and English. \Ve marched along so slowly and steadily thst I could almost hear each single stone n the gravel crunch under his feet. Then we reached the porch and 1 said good-bye, and, without waiting or even looking at him, hurried intoLthe house. Inquiries soon satisfied me that the Lady Aletheia was in the house and able to receive me. I found her, or rather was taken to her, in a little room which I can best describe as half boudoir, half writing room. In a very few minutes Lady Aletheia entered. Her hearing was not perhaps aggressive, but was unquestionably chilly, and was evidently intended to produce a corres ending impression. . "l have to go, ’ I said, “Lady Aletheia, and I wished before I went to bid you good -by and to thank you for yourhospitality." “Ob, indeed," she answered. “You are going, Lady Craven? Well! People come and people go. Perhaps it is best that leave-takings should be brief.” I had risen when she came in, and she had not herself taken a seat, so that we were both standing. a “It is perha s best they should be brief," I repliei , “especially when they are final as ours is likely to be." “I quite a o with you, ’ answered Ladv Aletlieia, an she turned on her heel, and I heard the rustle of her skirts as she swept along the corridor. We have, so far as I know, no exact English equivalent for shaking the dust off your feet. My fly came, my boxes were put on to it : my gratuities to the servants were duly made;end I very soon found myself in the train for Iondon, divided between a novel from the bookshelf and eview from the window. It was very wrong of me, but I laughed over the letter, and profauely remarked that Ally Sloper was at it again. Then I wrote my answer. “ Paris, 2,0001 Bis, Champs Elysees. December 23th, 18â€", “ My Dear Father. “I am deeply moved at your sad story. I owe you my life and all the happiness that my life has brought me. I should be worse than inhuman If I were not most deeply grateful to you. My bankers have instructions to place a hundred pounds at once to your credit at the Old Bank. Southwick, and to make a similar payment on each quarter-day. “At the same time, it is just as well that you should know where this money comes from. It is a part of the price for which I have sold myself soul and body to Prince Balanikofl". It is now two months since I wholly renounced the allowance I had been receiving from Sir Henry Craven. “Take the money, my dear father, and be careful over it, and make it go as far as it can. Nonolet. I dare say that your misfortunes have not made you forget your Latin. Your Daughter, MIRIAM. By return of post I received the follow- ing reply : The Deanery, Southwick, December 29th, 18â€". ‘ ‘M y Dearest Child, “ First let {me thank you with all my heart for your most generous and welcome aid. My days are numbered, and, in all human robability, I shall not tax your bounty ong. But I am hapyy to know that I still retain your affection. The more the years roll by the more closely do you remind me of your saluted mother. “Judge not, that ye be not judged. I have always seen the full force and singular beauty of that divine command, and have humbly endeavored to mould my life in unison with it. “Morgauatic marriages, such as yours. are, in its wisdom recognized by the Greek Church, a communion with which I have always been in theclosest sympathy,looking forward as I do with earnest faith to the ultimate reconciliation of Christendom. The more closely [we follow :pertified dogma the further we wander from the light. and the life, and truth, “I am. always, my dearest Daughter, “Your most devoted and sflectionate Father. “Arena-rue Vaxnxnrrn Sr. Acnvs." I really feel that this delightful epistle speaks suficiently for-itself and its writer, and needs no comment of my own. What he wasto do he did not know. It was the E‘icriived at the Langham. I telegraphed to ml 33“” _â€"_.__._+â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€" "I shall start for Paris by the 9.40 train The optimistâ€"“Now as to women,gener- ally speakingâ€"" The disagreeable men Meet me, as I am â€"~'Yes, she's generally speaking." HEALTH. Talks by the Doctor. TYPBOID F! V RR. It has been wisely said “In time of peace prepare for war.” So, in time of health prepare for sickness, rather, the better way toprevent it. See that your water supplies are kept pure; that‘ no refuse from stables and out-houses can infect the well or cistern. From impure water come our greatest ills. The collar shouldbe thoroughly cleaned and white- washed ; every nook and corner may hold the germs of death ;air it well ; take down coals of fire in an old tin pan and burn a handful of sulphur, to fumigate every niche and cranny. This should be done now, when you can remain out of doors an hour or two to let the sulphur do its perfect work from cellarto garret, after- wards open your bedroom doors and win- dows to let out the fumes. Keep your cabbages out of your cellar; they decay easily, and create sickness by their horrible stench. Indeed, it were far better that you have no vegetables at all under your house. Then will your home be pure and healthy. Put your supplies in the ground or in some place prepared for them. Better incur a little expense to do this than pay the doctor many times more later on. But when the malady has come it- must be disposed of in the best manner possible --tbe patient should be removed into an- other house, or at least to a separate room away from all but the nurse. As children cannot be of service they had better not be allowed where the patient is, for mutual protection- The less furniture in'the room the better, as carpets, bedding and uphol- stery are only nests of infection. Aside from the bed and necessary chairs and table little else is essential. The room should be ventilated at all times and kept within comfortable temperature. The disease being self-limited, having its allot- ted time to run, oflicious medication is simply hurtfurl. Hence the treatment is rather to prevent complications which may arise. The first thing to do is to see that the bowels have been thoroughly evacuated. For this purpose a catharticâ€"salts are best â€"should he given. A daily warm sponge bath containing a tablespoonful of soda, just the cooking soda, in a washbowl of water, the surface from head to foot rubbed carefully with a sponge or towel. This should be done each morning and bedtime. All offensive substances should be at once removed from the room. that the air may be as pure and healthful as possible. Light diet of such foods as the patient most prefers. I advise oatmeal, rice in any form; the yolk (only) of softboiled eggs, toast bread, or crackers, iellies. a. baked apple if desired but fruits are not bestâ€" the only exeeption I suggest is watermelon. Its juice seems very grateful, especially when the fever is high and little else can be relished. _ . From the fifth to the seventh day the most marked characteristics of typhoid fever will have manifested themselvesâ€"the brownish spots, especially distributed over the bowels and pit of the stomach, and the dry, brown coat on the tongue and on the teeth. Not infrequently the tongue is cracked with big fissures, making speaking and swallowing very difficult. A mixture of half honey and half glycerine, frequently applied on the tongue, tends to keep it soft and moist, giving great relief. The teeth should be kept clean by rubbing with a wet sponge. _ If the thirst is great, cold weak tea Will be found very comforting ; a tablespoonful as often as desired. I have used this drink many years and I think it a favorite bev- erage in this class of cases. One _of the most delightful drinks, also, when liked, is nice fresh buttermilk. It is at once a good medicine, food and drink. The fever is kept within bounds bya solution of chlorate of potashâ€"a level tesspoonful of the powder in two quarts of nice clear spring or well water. (If the water is not very clear you had better beil it.) Ateaspoonful given every half hour when awake. The potash acts as afeb- rifuge to keep the fever down, and the oxygen it contains greatly assists in sus- taining the system. By its use sores in the mouth and stomach are usually prevent- ed, and that most serious result of typhoid feverâ€"ulceration of the bowelsâ€"is far less likely to occur. . . This treatment, and such additional attentions as the careful, wise nurse may see proper to resort to in the course of this fever, will answer all probable needs. .If, however, serious complications arise, im- possible here to determine, your good hysicisn’s services will need be employed. ut in a large majority of cases the sug- gestions outlined will conduce to a safe recovery. Warding Off Consumption. The foundation of three-fourths of all cases of consumption is laid before the age of twentyofivo years,in women during their teens. It is, therefore, important that growing children should receive great care and attention during the early falL It is far better to ward off attacks than to cure them and this can hardly be effected by the constant use of medicine, cordials. stimu- lants, etc., nor by too much coddling in- doors, for no man or woman can haves hardy chest who does not breathe pure air. Sunshine should be courted by people preo disposed to consumption. The exercise should be of a gentle nature and draughts should be carefull avoided. Carriage exercise should not taken on a day when high winds are blowing. The only bad efl‘ects of night air lie in its being colder and damper than that of day. A sudden change from a warm room to a cold one, if one stands aboutin it, very often ives a disagreeable chill. The morning to bath is not beneficial to weak-chested people. Rubbing the body every morning witha d u h towel remotes circulation an" , ry’ to 8 p u ' the gentleman braced against the wall prevents all danger of a sudden chill. The chest should be rubbed with sea salt and well covered with a light chest rotecior. A smallcupful of milk taken in t e mom- ing before getting up, will give strength. Plain, easily digested food is the best, the meat should be tender. fish and same should be'eetenlin season. Lemonsd; and lime Juice with meals is very refreshing. Medical Don'ts. No not forget that the laxative fruits are figs, oranges, neeterines, tamarinds, prunes, plums, mulberries and dates. Do not forget that the word disinfect means simply “to purify or to cleanse, ” and that disinfectants can never occupy the place properly filled by fresh air, perfect cleanliness and sunshine; they can only give additional security after every possible care has been taken in all other respects. Do not forget that straining may burso a blood vessel of the retinaâ€"that part of the eye which is connected with the optic nerveâ€"and cause temporary blindness, if obliged to strain under any circumstance close the eye, as this gives a little support or pressure to all the soft tissues of the eye, and will help prevent an unfortunate occurrence. Do not forget that veal, pork. turkey, goose and duck should be excluded from the children’s bill of fare, and that no‘ fried, bashed, stewed, or twice-cooker meats should be given to them. Children’s meat should be either broiled, roasted or boiled. ‘ T00 FAT TO KEEP AWAKE. One Product or the British Workhouse That Does It Credit. The inhabitants of Poplar, who work hard and live frugslly in order to pay their taxes honestly, must be highly gratified to learn that they have been wearing their fingers to the bone to assist ‘Williara Ed- wards, an inmate of their workhouse, to be- come so fat that it takes him half an hour to stoop to pick up a pin and another half hour to raise himself to the perpendicular, and after the herculean exertion he becomes so exhausted that he requires to spend the next hour in slumber to recruit his shatter- ed force. He tried to induce the authori- ties to accept a theory he had worked out, which proved that the trouble of getting out of bed in the morning was so enfeebling that in his case it should be omitted from the day’s arrangements and his food he sent up to his bedside. When the workhouse master declined to acknowledge-the correctness of this deduc- tion,'Edwards endeavored to carry his pet idea into effect surreptitiously b crawling into acorner to enjoy a nap. Néver once was the question asked, '“ Where’s Ed- wards ?" without receiving the response, not from the person immediately concerned, and always correct, “ Asleep, sir. " This prodigy, who puts all other fat boys in the shade. is only 20 and weighs about 21 stone, and his checks are so fat that he has not for years seen his nose. And yet some people say that the poor-law system is atailure. The other day, wheuit was rather hot, a special staff attempted to keep Ede wards awake, and failed, so the sleeper was brought before the Thames magistrate charged with neglecting his work. He then admitted that he felt drowsy after the . good dinner with which the ratepayers kindly supplied him. and if he did over sleep himself a little he “ axed parding.” M r. Dickinson said the youth was apparent- ly too well nourished, and sent him to jail for seven days as a tonic for an overfed and overslept system. The Seven Wonders of Cores. Cores, like the world of the ancients, has its “seven wonders.” Briefly stated, they are as followszâ€"First, a hot mineral spring near Kin-Shantozt; the healing pro- perties of which are believed by the people to be miraculous. No matter what disease may afflict the patient, a dip in the water proves efficacious. The second wonder is. two springs, situated at a considerable dis- tance from each other; in fact, they have the breadth of the entire peninsula between them. They have two peculiaritiesâ€"when one is full the other is always empty; and, notwithstanding the fact that they are connected by a subterranean passage, one is bitter and the other pure and sweet. The third wonder is a cold wave caveâ€"a cavern from which a wintry wind perpetually blows. The force of the wind from the cave is such thata strong man cannot stand before it. Aforest that cannot be eradicated is the fourth wonder. No matter what injury is done to the roots of the trees, which are large pines, they will sprout up again directly, like the phoenix from her ashes. The fifth is the most won- derful of all. It is the famous "floating stone.” It stands, or seems to stand, in front of the palace erected in its honor. It is an irregular cube of great bulk. It appears to be resting on the ground, free from supports on all sides; but, strange to say, two men at opposite ends of a rope may pass it under the stone without en- countering any obstaclc whatever. The sixth wonder is the “hot stone,” which, from remote ages. has lain glowing with heat on the top of a large hill. The seventh and last Coreau wonder is a drop of the sweat of Buddha. For thirty paces around the temple in which it is enshrined not a blade of grass will grow. There are no trees or flowers inside the sacred square. Even the animals decline to profane a spot so holy. .____.._â€".â€"__. Making 2. Rough Guess. The policeman bad arrested a very digni- fied sort of man for not being able to walk steadily along the street when there were no earthquakes disturbing the earth's sur- face. Like some men in that condition be retained his faculty of speech. “Sir,” he said pompously, “is there any- thing in my language to warrant you in ar- resting me 2" "No," said the policeman briefly. “Nor in my general appearance 2'" "No." “Well, sir, is there anything in me as a entleman to warrant this arrest 2” “ here is." "Be kind enough to state it, please.”aud and stuck his chest out like a turkey gob- bier. “I should say,“ replied the officer care- fully, "thst it was about six or eight large- drinks of liquor.” V's. .r... ‘l J /‘l .731 E. «Wu .9 .. byw...4 .c' -mâ€"«a»... a mum-sexm‘ ’4