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-.*•'' *^~»â€" «!" 1 ^ 1 ii>' « i m I ii The Power ef PeFsuasien il I' I Or Lady Caraven'5 Labor of Love. CHAPTER X. ha.<iy Caravcn (elt something like despair. Was such a life, aiter all, worth having? Was her titie worth un-dergoiiig so much for? She was living without hope, without love, wiUiout happiness, subject to much Impertinence. Surely life was not usually like this, or why did people talk of its brightnetis, its beauty? Tliere was nothing to which she clung in the life she was leading. She would have separated herself from Ravonsmere, and all that it contained â€" except Sir Raoulâ€" with- out a sig'h; It was even worse than that^ahe disliked all belonginir to ft. Why should she submit any long- er? She would rather bo a gover- ne.sa, rudely treated by an upstart woman, than a countess neglected •ltd despised by her own husband, and insulted by his friends. She Would rather forego, every luxury, and work for her dally bread, than bear this . life any longer. Why should .she? The earl had married her for her money; now he had it â€" notliing could take It from him. Her father had sold her for d title; he oould (tall himself the father of Lady Carnven â€" nothing could undo that. But she was indisposed any longer to be the victim of both. She would seek hor freedom and would find it. She walked with head erect, with flushed face and angry eyes, through the splendid rooms. They were all more or less acouplod. In the lib- rary some gentlemen were writing letters^ â€" the biliionWroom was always engaged â€" the ladies of the party oc- cupied different apartments. It seemed to her that nowhere would she nnd peace. Her whole soul was In a fever of unrest, a tumult of sad- ness and weariness. Her heart ach- ed, her head throbbed. She longed with desperate longing for a few minutes' repose; It seemed to her that her life was hurrying on like a, swift river into an unknown sea. She wanted to stop and see whith- •r it was going. Everywhere there was the same noise â€" the deep voices and deep laughter of men, the light tones and gay laughter of women. There was not a spot In the whole place for rest. She pressed her hands against the temples that throbbed so violently. She looked around her half irresolutely. Whith- er should slie go? Then she be- thought herself of the pleasaunce â€" the only spot where s4ie could even imagino her.self alone. The pleasaunce must have been constructed by some one who knew how human nature longed to rest. Few of tho Kavensmero people knew of its existenceâ€" the visitors did not. Some of tho servants were in perfect ignorance as to its where- abouts. It was constructed for the w>le and exclusive use of tho Ladies Caraven. Kumor told Strang* stor- ies of one of the daughters of the house who had been born With a de- lormity In the face, so terrible that Mho was unfit for human eyes to gaz« on. The earl, her father, never per- mitted her to leave the house, and this gar<Ion had been constructed en- tirely tor her use. It was inclosed between four high walls, and those Walls were covered with a luxuriant growth of ivy. No windows, no towers, overlooked the garden. Tho path.s were broad and straight, the whole place was a wilderness of flowers. Tho young countess betljought her- self of this retreat. She had one key of tho dark green door that led to It: Sir Kaoul had another. She would go thither, she said to her- self, and look her life in the face, and then decide what to do with it. It was also dawning across her that slio would not bo able to bear her trials much longer; that she coukl not and would not endure Vheni; that there was a brighter life somewhere, which .she was determin- ed to find out; that siie could not â- acrllir^! her witulo life to a shadow of duty: that, in fact, she would go forth (lee. Free! The very word made her â-  H . M . I .. t . t .. l . I .. t . t i. t .. M » M - I"I -' t ' M-f heart beat quickly. Free! She would no longer be tied to ttjp man whose indolence, whose self-indul- gence, whose cold Indiflference and neglect, whose utter want ot iuterest in his duties irritated and annoyed her every hour of the day, to the handsome, indolent man who allow- ed fevei' and disease to run riot in the cottages belonging to him. while he wrung from tho tenants all he could get, who abandoned every duty and was satisfied to leave the most solemn of his engagements to a man like John Blantyre. She was tired of it. She would be free â€" free to go whither sho would Why !»hould she rema-in? Her fath- er had deceived her â€" he had told her that she could live without love, that nothing was of any worth ex- cept rank, wealth, and position. She had found it to be untrue. Looking back now, she regretted bitterly that she had not decided otherwise, and had not refused to live without love. She went to the pleasaunce. If she were Interrupted there. It could only be by her husband and Sir Raoul; there was no fear of other Intruders. A ssnse of relief come to her when she found herself betweea the four high walls. The blue sky smiled down upon her, the languid air stir- red faintly, the scent of rosea came to her on the w^nd; it was like a reprieve to enter that quiet retreat, ' and feel alone. i She walked down one of the broad | straight paths to where crimson car- nations grew side by side with white lilies, and there she seated her.selt to restâ€" alone. And It was so sweet to be alon*. There was no sound of men's voices or of light laughter; no sneer could reach her whore she was; there was nothing but the blue sJty above, and the breath of the eweet western wind. She was shut out from all sounds â€" alone, with the thread of her life In her hands. It was a dreary tangle, a miserable disappointment. Sho was tired and weary. Looking back, she thought she must ha\'« been mad to sacrlflco herself as she had done; married for her money, sold for a title, her own will, her own womanhood had never asserted itself. Her handsome in- dolent husband did nothing but treat her with indifference and contempt. She could do nothing for him. He was on the way to ruin. How could she arrest him? Hts whole life was a round of senseless pleasure from which she could never divert him. He had all that ho wanted â€" hor money. Now surely she could go free â€" free to lead a niorc congenial life, where she would not live in the midst of annoyances and vexations. She would go and live in Franco or Italy â€" anywhere away from Eng- land! Her father might be angry. She would not heed it. He had shown but little love for her; she would not consider him. Tho only regret she felt â€" and It was a deep one â€" was for Sir Raoul. Sir Raoul, the only human being who cared for herâ€" what would ho say when he knew that she was going? He would miss her so terribly; but, even for his sake, dear as he was to hor, she could not stay. Ho would miss her, he who loved her with a true loyal love; but she would toll him how wretched sho was, how utterly mis- erable, and then ho would sec that she must go. Suddenlyâ€" she could not toli why â€" the self-command of long years broke down. Her pride, her courage, her high spirit, the proud sense of re- sentment that had sustained her, broke down, and she wept as she had seldom wept in her life before. The passionate tears seemed to relieve her. It was a luxury to weep there alone â€" for once to give herself up to a full .sense of her misery, of her dis- appointment, of her blighted life â€" for once to dare to look tho truth full in the face, and own to herself that .sho was ono of Uio most nii.<i- erable, most wretched girls in the whole wide world. ,She .sobbetl out the words. It was n relief to say them â€" a relief to say even to herself that sho was so mis- erable; she had beon so proudly re- ticent, so solf-restrained. Suddenly a hand was laid upon her shoulder, and, looking up, .^ho saw Sir Kaoul standing by her side. In his pale face, worn with pain and suSering, sho saw infinite pity, in- flnite love; compassion and tender- ness shone in hor eyes. He had nev- er looked so true and so noble as ho did just tlion. Ho bent over her. "Hlldred, poor child, is it so bad as this?" he asked. "It is so bad," she said, "that it could not be worse, Rauul â€" nothing could bo worse. I am tired of it. I am going away." "Ooing away!" he repeated, slow- ly. "That Is what I feared. Has your patience, your forbearance, come to an end at last. Hildred?" "Yes." she replied, truthfully, "it has nt last." He was silent for a few minutes. and then, as she looked up at him. a great awe stole over her. His eyes were raised to the clear skies, his lips moved. Surely In a picture she had seen a figure something like his, with a serene light on the brow. Her anger, her impatience, her bitter contempt and dislike seemed to fall away from lier, oven from that one look at his face. She rose suddenly into something nobler than a weeping, vengeful, unhappy woman. "You are going away, Hildred â€" you can bear It no longer? Poor child! This reminds me of an hour I spent once with a soldier who was determined to desert his post and fly." "I am not a. soldier," she said, with a more pitiful smile. 'We will talk it over," he re- plied; and ho seated himself by the crimson carnations by her side. "I will tell you all I think." ho said, "and we will talk it over; then you shall decide." She was trying to harden her heart against him, to say to herself that, no matter what he thought, urged, or said, it should make no dider- ence â€" she would go away. He was sensitive and proud, he was tender of heart, but how could he under- stand hor case? That which tor- tured her was nothing to him. Ho looked at hor with the same sweet, noble compassion that seemed to her almost more than human. "Hildred," he said. In a low voice, "will you tru.st me wholly? Will you tell me tho true story of your marriage?" "Do you not know it. Raoul? It seems to be shameful 1 have no wish to repeat it." "I know something of it." ha re- plied; "but not tho whole truth. I know that you will tell it to me. I ask you as a physician asks. I must know the whole truth before I can adVi.se. Teil me one thing â€" did you love your hu.sbaad at all before your marriage?" "No." she replied; "not in the least." 'Will you tell me again why you, a woman naturtilly noWe. naturally tender and true of heart, married without love?" She glanced at him, her beautiful face full of perplexity; she had gath- ered a crim.son carnation, and was holding it between her slender fin- gers. "I will tell you. Raoul. 1 asked my father if love wero necessary for happiness, and he said 'No.' I^^ be- lieved him; honcc my mistake." '•Your father deceived .vou.:' "He did deceive me." sho re- plied. Ho looked at the downcast face. "Poor child!" said the grave voice again. "Yea. I was deeply to be pitied. I wa.i sorry even for my.sclf. What made it worse was that in time I was beginning to care very much for my husband. If he had been Piles To proT* (0 yoa tbak Dn Chun's Olntmtnt la » owrtalo and abMlata otii* for ••oh •na everr form ot itohiur, blMdlnxkod pratraiUlut pile*, ths mannfaoturen har* ctiaraatMd it. Sm tea- Umonlkis In tha dallr praas aad aak roarnalsh- bora wkat thar thlak of It Yea oan naa It aad â- â€¢t Tour monar b«ek if not ourad. 80a • box, •! til daalara or bMANsoM.IUTBa * COk,Tor9atah Dr. Chase's Ointment kind to me l .should luivo loved him now" â€" and, stopping .suddenly, she wrung her hands in terrible despair. "Now." she continued. "I dislike him â€" I almost hate him." The beautiful face flushed hotly â€" the dark eyes were full of a strange light. "1 am alarmed at my.self," she wont on. "1 dill not know that it Was within me â€" this power of hatred. Skin on Fire With Eczema. I am so frightened that I am going away, Raoul. My patience has fail- ed me." "It i.s a sad story. Tell me, Hil- dred â€" whv does your patifince fail? I love Uiricâ€" I love you; I can judge between you. Why does your pa- tience fail?" "I do not like speaking of it," she began. "You jtiust see, Raoul, as well us I doâ€" you must understand. How could any one help despising and di-sliking a man who lives for him.self, who cares for nothing but his own pleasure, and leaves every duty neglected? How can I love a man who married me only for my money, despising me the while? â€" who has not since marriage shown me the ordinary civility that a gen- tleman never fails to ^how to a lady? Ho is selfish, indolent â€" oh, Raoul! I do not like s.iying thi.i, but if you saw hi.s cruel neglect, his cruel oppression â€" if you knew how carelessly he leaves everything to John Blantyre, how heedless he is as to the claims of justice, you would be sorry for r.io!" "I see," he replicl. quietly. "Now tell me. Hildred â€" I know you will speak quite frankly â€" do you see one redeeming quality amid all your husband's faults??" She thought long before aha an- swered him, and then she looked in- to his face. "I am afraid not â€" I do not re- member one. Yes. there is one; I have never heard him speak falsely." Sir Kaoul's face cleahsd. ''Ulric was a truthful boy," he said. "Do you know of anything else in his favor?" She thought again. "I think." slic replied, even more slowly, "that he -U tender-hearted. He is not cruel; he does not like to see people suffer; he is cruel only to me." "True in word and tender of heart â€" those are two good qualities; we know that Ine has a hand-some face, an easy grace of manner, a musical voice. You see 1 am trying to dis- cover his good qualities. I think that Ulric Caraven has in htm the elements of a noble character, Hil- dred. Give to a sculptor a block of shapeless marble, and what does ho fashion from it?" "A beautiful statue," she replied. "True. Given a shapeless mass of qualities, good and bad intermiixed. I say that a good woman from them can mold a beautiful character. Lis- ten â€" I will tell you how." He had drawn nearer to her. and the leaves of the crimson carnation fell at his feet; the western wind seemed to pause aad listen â€" It feli with a faint, subdued sigh. "Your life lies before you now, divided into two paths. Granted that you have been victimized, that you have been married for your money, that you have been sold, as It wero. for a title, that your girl- ish romance and your womanly ten- derness have been alike outraged, that you have been deceived, per- .suadod that you could live happily witht^ut love, and that you find It all a mistake." "Yes." sho repeated, "all a mis- take." "You have borne your fate brave- ly as yet. but now you have tired of it; your courage and patience have failed â€" you have told "me so. and I can plainly .see that in your own mind you are seeking some means of e.scape. Is it not so?" (To Be Continued). -Now Proclaims Mr. McDougall Was for Twelve Years a Dreadful SufTerer- the Virtues of Dr. Chase's Ointment. Fczema'a itch is torture, tho akin seems on fire with the burning, stinging humor; at times it becomes al- most unbearable, and in desperation you could tear the skin to pieces. You dare not exorci-so for fear of aggravating the itching, neither cnir you sleep, for no sooner docs tho body bocome warm than the trouble begins, and instead of restful, refreshing sleep, it is scratch, scratch, scratch all night long. There is scarce- ly a moment's respite from this maddening malady at any time. Of course you have tried nearly all the waslics, salves, lotion* and medicated soaps, but like thousands of others, have been disappolntod and dis- gusted. Mr. Alex. McDougall. postmaster. Broad Cove Mar-sh, N.S., writes :â€" "For twelve years 1 was a great •uffci-er from eczema on tho inside of the leg. There was a raw patch of flesh about three inches sq\mre. and the itching was something fearful. llne-haU box of Ur. Chase's Ointment completely cured me, took away tho itching and h«aU>d up tho sore I have no hesitation in recommending it as a wonderful cure for itching •kin disease." You may be akcpticaf regarding the ability of Dr. Chase's Ointment to cure you. Most |)oople are, after trying in vain to get relief from a host of remcdios, hut Dr. Chase's Ointment will not disappoint you. You will ho .<«irpri8e<l at the marvellous control which it has over all itching, hiu-ning Inflammation of tho akin, nnd the wonderful healing powers which it ponsssscs. It takes time to thoroughly cure eczema, but I>r. Chasn's Ointment will do it. You will And relief after a few applications, and gradually and naturally th« cure will follow. Besides being a positive euro for ec2ema. Dr. Chase's Ointment comes uaefitl in a hun> flred' Ways' in every home for every form of skin Irritation nnd eruption, chapped ekin and chilbloiaa. $0 caate a box, at all dealers, or Edmanson. Bates 4 Co., Toronto. ROUGH ON THE STRANGER. In a well known pixrk in Germany there is a large boar's den, which lies at a lower level than the ground about it and Is tcurrounded by a railing. One day a .stranger, while leaning over the rail, lost his balance and full into the pit. He struck by the side of a large grizzly bear, which at once soiiod tho man's leg in hia moiith and completely crushed it. Some bystanders, by the aid of ropoa and poles, succoetkni in getting the unfortunate man out of tho den. He lay in a fainting condition. At this point a policeman stepped up to him. "1 place you under arrest," he Siiid to tho wounded man. "Arrest ! What for ?" luuuedlate- ly gasped the victim. "For xloluting the rules ot the park," said the policeman. "Don't you sec that notice there ?" Ho pointed to a -'igu over the rail- ings of the boar's den. which read : "Jt in forbidc.'cn to feed the ani- mals." A POPULAR BELIEF. tlZJLT SH£UMATIS£I IS DUE TC COLD, WET WEATHEB. Such Conditions A^^avate th< Trouble, But it is Uovr Known to Be a Disease of the Blood â€" Outward Applications Cannot Cure It. The once popular belief that rbeu- daatism was entirely the result of ex- posure to cold or dampness, is now known to be a mistake. The dis«as« may bo aggravated by exposure, but the root of tho trouble lies in thi blood, and must bo treatod through it. Liniments and outward applica- tions never euro, while Dr. Williams' Pink Pills always cure because Ihej mako new, rich, red bloud, in which disease finds lodgment impossible. Concerning tho use of Iheae pills Mr. A. U. Lacombe, Sorel, Que., says :â€" "For upwards of five years I was a victim to the tortures of rheuma- tism. At times the pains in' my knees, shoulders and hip were al- most post endurance. At othei times 1 could not dresj myself with- out assistance. I tried several re- medies, some of them very costly, without getting any more than tem- porary relief at the most. At thif juncture a friend urged me to try.. Dr. Willioias' Pink Pills, and spoki so highly of the pills^'that I decided to try them. Almost from the very first these piU;: helped me, and by the time I had taken seven or eight boxes. every twinge of rheumatism had disappeared, und I was feeling better that I had for years. I would strongly advise similar sufferers tc give I)r. Williams' Pink Pills a fail trial, as I am confident they will not only drive awar all pains and aches, but leave you strong, activa and happy." Dr. Williams' Pink Pills are th« greatest tonic medicine in the world, liicse pills not only cure rheuma- tism, but all troubles whose origin comes from poor blood or weak nerves, such as anaemia, consump- tion, neuralgia, kidney trouble, ,St. Vitus' dance, partial paralysis aad the Irregularities which make th« lives of so many Women a source ol misery. Soma dealers offer subati< tutes. and in order to protect your- self you must see that -the full nama "Dr. Williams' Pink Pills for Pala People" is on tho wrapper around every box. Sold by all dealers or acnt by mail, post paid, at 50 cents a box or six boxes for $3.50. by writing direct to The Dr. Williama' Medicine Co., Brockville, Oat. I "We've got to economize," said Mr. Gargoyle to his wife. "Very well, dear," replied the good woman, cheerfully. "You shave yourself, and I'll cut your hair." Elderly Lady â€" "Aren't you asham' ed to be seen smoking cigarettes, lit- tle boy?" Little Boyâ€" "Sure. I am; but wot's a feller to do when ho ain't got the price of a cigar?" 1 A BABY CBliUxUED. the Mother Tells How It Was Accomplished. "A wonderful change." is tho ver- dict ot a lady correspondent who writes us about hor little one- "I take pleasure." writes Mrs. R. B. Bickford. of Olen Sutton. Que., "in certifying to the merits of Baby's Own Tablets, as I have found them a sure and reliable remedy. My baby Was troubled with indigestion. and- was teething' and cross and restless. and the use of tho Tablets made a wonderful change. I think the time- ly use ot Baby's Own Tablets might save many a dear little life, and 1 would recommend mothers to keep them in the house." Tho opinion ot this wise mother is echoed by other correspondents. Baby's Own Tablets give such com- fort and relief to a sick baby, they »o infallibly produce calm, peaceful ^.^ jleep. that you would almost think y" them a narcotic. But they are not. They arc only a hea'th-giver foi ahildren of any age. They cannot possibly do harm â€" they always do good. May bo had from druggists, or by mail, po.st paid, at 25 cents a box. by writing direct to the Dr. \ Williams' Medicine Co.. Brockville, Ont.. or SchenectaJir. N.Y. Applicantâ€" I'd like to get a job as track-walk«r. Railroad Superintendent â€" Any experience ? Applicant â€" I used to bo ar actor.