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LORD KILLEEN'S REVENGE CHAPTER XLVIll.-Continuod. "No onB. I shall go alone; I sliill confront that woman alone I" Then her calm broka down and hiT voice deepened into a sort of suppressed fury. "Great Heaven I" she said, "that such woineu should be allowed to live and thrive I Of what avail ia goodness, then? We. who still hold to the old traditions of decency, are brushed .iside by theHe creatures who know no law but their own clesires. Pah I the very Ibougnt of them contaminates one." She turned fierc4>ly upon Coustantia. "Go hoem," she said, "you are too young to be mixed up with such an affair as this. As for meâ€"" "Do not send me from you," oried Constantia, nervously. "And wh'it is it you would say about yourself'/" "Only th»t I am learningâ€" learn- ' Indeed, sirâ€" off again In a hurry? Here to-day an<l ^one to-morrow, as it were." The station-master was a chrery person who liked to hear his own voice. "JuHt so," Baid Mr. Dundas. As he stepped into the fuller dark- ness outside he ran up against Feath- erston. "Ah I You. Dundas I" said he, as If lastounded. "And no other," returned Dundas, lauKhing. "I might be my own ghost, 80 satisfactorily have I surprised ev- ery one I have met by my sudden re- turn ; but the fact id that fellow Haw- kins has been troublesome again. You knowâ€" I've told you a thousand times, I dare sayâ€" how I have sworn to put down these poaching affrays, no mat- ter what time or trouble it coats me; and this morning 1 had a telegram from Jeffreys telfinjj me of a serious attack made last night on the young pheasants." "I heard of it ; but I really think Jeffreys rather exaggerated the affair. ing, old as I am." A pale suiile cross- ' He's a wonJer/ully zealous fellow, \td her lips. "Did you think all know- ledge was acquired in one's school-roomf I am learning the folly of endurance. Why should 1 endure ? Why should I alone suffer every day, and all day long, by night and morn? There is consolation for me too, no duubt, some- where, if 1 choose to look lor it," "Surely," said Constantia, gravely. She was puzzled and unnerved' by tbe other's manner, and by the long strain of the whole past day. To see Lady Varley, always so calm and self-possass- •d, give herself up thus to such a reck- less vehemence filled her with a name- less alarm. She did not understand what she meant, yet it frightened her, and thia fear, coming just now when she waa tired in mind and body, made her feel intolerably weak. "The world is not without comfort," she said, "even for the most miserable. This consola- tion you speak ofâ€" why do you not look for it?" The innocence of the answer struck Lady Varley like a blow. She Ijurst into a low, unmirthful laugh. "You advise me, then?" she said. There was something in the laugh that inci-eased Conslautia's perplexity. ller eyes filled with tears. She went up to Lady Varley, and passed her arm around her neck. She hardly knew why she did it. It was in a measure, perhu|H, a sort of protective movement, though she could not have explained it. Lady Varley shrunk from her. For the bare moment she lust all son.se of the necessity for purity. She reuieui- bered only that she was a wife scorn- ed, and that O'Grady loved her. And oh I to be loved by some one, and byâ€" him I It was but a momentary weakness, yet while it lasted she would not suffer the girl to touch her. She put out tier hands and tried to push her from her, but Constantia was not thus easily to bo repulsed. "Siwak to me, Yolande. Tell me what you are thinking uf ?" she en- treated, tenderly. Lady Varley shuddered. "It was nothing," she said, faintly; "a mere oa«sing madness. It is gone forever. But I am very unhappy, Con- nie. 1," feverishly, "sometimes don't know how to manage my thoughts." "Wh^ not let them dwell upon your little one? If sadness lies in that, still it must comfort you to know she is safeâ€" secure." "There you are wrung. To think of her IS terrible to me," said Lady Var- ley, beginning to p:ic!e up and down the room in the light of the uncertain moon. I think of her forever, but that does not soothe mo. 1 follow her down into her earthy home, to wonder what she IS like nowâ€" to picture her to my- self us she lies there, withâ€"" "Oh, no I" cried Constantia, with a strong shudder. T '?''?/* '* nothingâ€" nothing." replied Lady Varley, in a iiiuuriiful tone. "Only a few p<ior little bones. I ;iiii glud of that At first it w,is dreadful to pic- ture it day after day, but now, 1 I hiiik, I am sure, there are only bones. I should not know her now. The pretty mouthâ€" the lovely eye*â€" the bal.v smile â€" iillâ€" all are gone ; only the bones lie there. Con-stantia felt cold and faint. "l)o not talk of it," she said, tremu- lous ly. •â- No," with a sigh; "lictler talk of thai we have in hand. It Is growing late, tome, Connie, you .shall uciom- panv me p.irt of the way, at all events; BO far, at lea.st, as will brinir ynu to your own gate." "Ami >ou-will you really go now to llallyiiKire?" '"Ihi.s iiKiment. I shall let the ser- vant.s think what they like, for. after all. It would I),, inipiwsilile to ronreal Bnylhing from tbein." ".Still I think if yim were to suggest to them tliat yiiu were eoinlng to inn ••"â- an hour or .so, it wmilil .simnil liei- ter," said Constantia. nervously. "And from The Coffa+fe \rr. St innKe <lrivo you on to llallyinore." Mr. Strongcl Where is he?" "In the avenue, wailing for me ConfesH<;d Constantia, shyly. Lady Varley regarded her keenly. â- 'Are you going to marry him?" s asksil. "Yes." "I am glad of that. Heartily glad. For you at least there is a sure chance of happiness. Well, vou and he shall arrange this matter for will he nieâ€" come.' niAPTKR XLIX. The f)ld town clock struck ten as the train steamed slowly into I he station. For onee therefore it w,^» in time. It was a dark ninhl. murky and rather chill; the wind had rUen and there was a Huspicion of r;iin in the air. Mr. Diind.is, as he Hteppi'd on to the platform, shivered ii little and stamited his feet, ami buttoned his coat more clortel;ir rounil him, in spite of the fact that it was still summer. "Didn't ex|«'ct you home so soon, «lr," Slid the station-master with a smile, as he touk his ticket. Kvery one liked grave .John Dundas, and had a pleasant word for him. "I didn't exniM't it myself," he re- plied; "and, atler all, it will be only A flying visit scarcely worth "lention- , it must lie allowed, but point de zele, you know, is excellent advice in most mat- ters. I fear the honest Jeffreys has rather overdone it this time, and given you your journey for nothing. From what I understand it was nothing at all serious; but he's an excellent fellow, Jeffreys, and it is unwise to be too hard upon a careful servant." "My dear Featherston I am the last man to be bard in such a case as this. I am, no matter how it stands, intensely obliged to .lef treys. To con- fe.ss a truth to you, I was sick of the stifling town and," sctrelching his arms lazily, "am enchanted with the thought that 1 shall have, at least, a few hours of decent air l)efore I go back to it again. Lawyers are but poor comptiny- dry, very dry ; so I was only too gla<l of the exouse to leave them to fill up their fusty parchments in my absence, and run down south even for a day." "Mrs. Dundas will thank Jeffreys, too, no doubt. She did not come to meet you?" "No; in fact. Iâ€" erâ€" I didn't tell her f was coming. I thought I'd take her by purprUe," saiil John Dundas, a lit- tle shyly, but with such a ring of ex- pectant happine.s8 in bis voice as con- vinced Featherston that his belief in his wife was perfect, and that, as yet. no suspicion had crept in. That he had done a vilely cruel thing In giv- ing a chance for the entrance of this susDicion did not disturb him. "Mrs. Dundas does not know you are cximing, then?" He a.sked the qui*tion to make himself entirely sure of the fact that the comedy promised would not prove a failure. "No; r really bad hardly a moment to send her word," said Duudas, who ^â- "^ '«B'nning to be rather ashamed of the sehoollioy longing to take some one unawares that had p<K!.sessod him when he ilecided on keeping hi„ sudden ""'"l-co'nmg secret from his darling. All this was news to Featherston, though the sending of the lelegrim w.u, not He had sauared Jeffreys .it>out th.at, and, close-fisted as he was, had not held l)ack from such a britie a--! induced the man to do bis bidding, le had only meant, however, to bring i>ack Dundas a day too soon upon the scene, and so spoil Donna's plans, for the present at all events, 'fhe future mignt see him victorious, tool He owed her something, and in this wise sought to p;iy it. ^* Hut now, hu told himself, the plot was thickening of its own accordâ€" at least without help from him. How if madame was rectiiving her friend to- night » I he friend was always at Hal- lymore now, he had Iwen told, in -sea- son .ind out of it. How if the two men Mioud meet-lhe irii.sting husliand, the too welcome lover I Ah I here w:ia a r««l vengeam^e laid ready lo his hand, without c.wr of thought, or plan, or plot A alow smile siole over his face; his hand stroke.l down his blonde mus- tache, with a view to cimcealing it • Heaides, if 1 had telegraphed," John I und.w w.is saying whilst he thought I'M'"''. ' «'"'"''t t''«ve let that ras- cal Hawkins know of my intended re- turn, that woubl have put him on hia guard. And there w.-id n<j lime for an explanatory letter its I started as 80(m as ever I could," "Vou are a man of busiiiess," snid i'eutherstiin, smiling blandly "You arrange your affairs with spiwd, and no iloulit with diwretidii. t;ood-niKht then: I will not keep you longer from ftlr.s Dundas, lest I incur her severe ili.sple.isuie." He .shook h.inds in the friendliest way and the night was loo dark to permit' ol Mr. DundiLs's seeing i he smile of cruel aniiisem' nt that curved his lips as the l;is: words es.'aped him. Mr. Dumlaa di.sappeared into the windy night, and moved steadily onward to- ward his home. Ihe soft, misty rain that now was railing and lieating against his face only seemed to refresh him. He walk- ed rapidly, with an el.isii,- step, feeling that eieli moment bniunlil him near 111 her. Ilia heart was full (,r ilelight. lie felt indeed almost alisiirdiv happy iim an inclinition to launh iiloinl nv..)-- look him now and I hen, a.s he thought of h.iw h,.r IxMutifiil far,. „,„i|,| |,^ht up with a tfl.iil surprise as be stepped in- to her presence .and how lier clear sweet laugh wniibl ring !,iit when be eonfe,s.sod to her his foolish faiiev to surprise her. ha. I l.rouirht him to the level of Ihe must youthful love-sick Ther,! would Im llie little fond rush owani hini. No; first the start, and to her priwene^. and how lier clear of the warm slender liamls around his neck, and then â€" then she would kiss hiiii--as she alone could kiss, his lie- loved. Hi.s own I an opiming in the trees the whole of the but with haste, he stepped lightly in- or prancing creams. You dree •â- â€ž last Houthern side of the house was laid to th* room. year's fashions, and make moat ..f your Uire to him, and he could see that lights ! He groped about carefully for a mom- | things at home, if you be a wonran, an« shone in two of the central windows, ^nt or two in the darkness, and, get- i your wealthy kinsman spends a la;ge They were the windows of the room ting impatient at last, look a match ; fortune at her milliner's, tosses naids shT most affectedâ€" her favorite room, 'rona his pocket. Hut, after a second's an exV)ensive dress after it has been She was still awake, then. All the reflection put it back again. No, he worn two or at most three times. Your rest of the house was sunk in darkness would not risk even so much. He establishment consists of two maids, BO that he knew the servants were iii would risk nothing. He felt himself | who yet manage to keep your house bed. How lonely for her. poor darling, singularly calm and collected, and once like a new pin. and to have everything keeping her vigil thus alone I i more began his search in a blackness I as neat and clean as a Swiss cottago He hurried forward until he came that might lie felt. ! cut out of cherrr'vood and put under to the foot oi' the steps that led up to I He came at last to the drawer of the ia glass sunshade. Your kinsfolk have the balconv, off which the room opened, cabinet he wanted, and drawing some- a small army of powder-heade-.l retain- He paused there with a quiet smile, 'thiuK from it, examined it by touch, I ers in the hall, and their domestic gra^ and liegan to as<!eiid the steps with and having satisfied himself that all ! dations are like nothing so much as extreme cnution ed his nppro.ach Not a sound lietray- | was right, tried to conceal it in the When half way up, large breast-iwcket of his traveling- he stqpixid for a moment, and put his coat. But gimething prevented him. It hand in bin breast-pocket to make, sure was the jewel-case he had felt with such that the coutly diamond trinket he had I loving fmgers as he came up the stone Isiught for her was there and safe, steps just now. Then once again he commenced to mount ' Just now! Great Heaven! Could it the steps, silently, carefully, one by , have been only just now? Could such one, making no faintest noLse, so that i words apply to itf ^Vas it not rather her surprise might be complete. 'a thottsand years ago? In another The soft, misty min was still descend- ageâ€" another life-timer He caught the ingâ€" all the stars were obliteratedâ€" the ^ise in his hand, dragged it from his falling of the heavy drops, as they ac- pocket with a ferocious gesture, and cumulated on the branches of the huge hurled it from him. elms, could every now and then be; It fell with a sharp sound against the heard as they sunk sullenly into Ihe opposite wall. This restored him to ^ . .. earth. The awning tliat all that long himself at once, and woke within him ! disdainful noses and hunrh their icy day had kept out the brilliant sunshine a terrible fear. Had it been heard? He ! shoulders, and make you understand was now soaked through and through; | crept on tiptoe to the window, and its ' that you are out of the running with jnit the Persian mats that strewed the i tened breathlessly for a moment in the " •â- â-  j •-- - «-- Peter Pindar's fleas. These are the ?;rand differences between you; and or these you are Enubl)6d and over- looked, cold^houldered, and perhaps cut. Yet you rememljer the tims when you were the Maecenas to your then impovish«l relations, and you can recall how often you gave him money â€"gave her smart, new, simple frocks â€" took the children for their holiday.sâ€" tre.ated them to the playâ€" did a thous- and acts of klndnei» to them in those days when your modest competence was riches to their impecunlosity, and they were glad to profit by yoiir crumbs. And now â€" they turn up their balcony were still dry. As Mr. Dundas | rain-s»vept night; but nothing came. If stepped on to them he smiled againâ€" by that mad act, he had been foiled? a large, amused smile. They deadened ! But no; no human power should foil the sound of his footsteps, and would ; him -low I help him to cirry out this fond if fool- He -'ressed convulsively to his heart ish design of his The blinds were down in them as things are, and you m'ust b« taught to keep your plae« â€" if you do not know it. AH this, and more, ia what you have to suffer at the hands of your prosperous relation, he who has bounded upwards by a fluke, whilo you have been content to remain in the state of life into which it has plead- ed God to call you. Meantime your father's misfortunes accumulated. For no fault of his and no misdoing he lost his health, his the thing he had concealed there, and _ ^_ both the went back to the velvet-hung door-way. windows, and ijefore the glass door, j There w.as nothing to prevent his enter- w-hich was ojien, hung a heavy velvet '•>«• They (the two within) had felt curtain. Mr .Dunda.s putting out his themselves .so secure, so happy in his hand, drew a corner of it .aside, very absence, so engrossed was the thought , - v cautiously and looked in. Beyond the that to-morrow would take them far i situation, his prospects. lour mother velvet hung a lace curtain of the most from all fear of discovery, that they died, and your father remained as » fragile kind, and through it he sawâ€" had, with an almost insolent disregard helpless, hopeless invalid on your handsj CHA.PTRR L. of caution, left wide that fatal door. The The lamps wrere partially lowered, and Dight, in sjiitc of the steady downpour the soft crimson light .shed by the col- was warm to suffocation, as it might be ored shades flooded the room but deli- o" the eve of a thunder-storm, catelyâ€" the pretty room, the walls of i He looked once cigain Into the room which were hung with riearl-gray satin, that held the shaded lampsâ€" bis wife- caught by ivory knots here and thereâ€" her loverâ€" and all the dead ashes of bis J""' PrWe ""1 a^ for his patronag* and your bands were feeble and could not support the heavy burden. You turn to your mother's brother â€" that rii'b uncle of whom you have heard so much, and of whom your mother used to speak as of a small god. You lower the room he had decked and garnish- 'i^e. Everything was at an end. He ed for her with all care out of the plen- 'elt no keen pain, no desire to upbraid itude of his love. Tt was now ahroud- her, no passionate resentment â€" only a ed in a seductive gloom, through which knowledge that death was not far off. little marble loves .xnd graces, naked Already the smell of the charnel- nymphs and daring cupids gleamed vol- house was choking him.' He had ael- uptuously from their cabinets and dom felt so calm In her presence as he brackets. A Venus, fresh from the salt felt now, standing there motionless In foam, smiled amorously from a buhl the soaking rain, gazing in on the ruins table ui>on a form half hidden in roses. , ot his chateau en Esiiagne he had so A subtle sense of |>erfume hung over i often deemed the fairest ever built, everything, the breath, as it were, of They were laughing still. They were those dying flowers. Roses was every where; great biuiches of them, white â€"not money; that would have been im- possibleâ€"but his patronage in the way of obtaining some kind of position by which you would be enabled to keep your yoimg brothers and sisters. You are met by a curt refusal, and a re- quest never to be again troubled witlij the like application. But be could have made you, and you would not have dL<graoed him. This is an uncomfort- able relation, if you will I For it ia bard to know of that close blood tie and drawn even closer round each otherâ€" '° '**' "° *"*"° *"** * stranger when arms intwined within arms. To him, i *â- "«''"« '"â- â- Â° °f 'he hand, a mere scratch golden red as the heart's blood, filled watching, there s-emed to be something "' ^^^ P^°- *°""1 P"' y°" 'P "hat every corner. One or two lay, as if : extraordinary in their gayetyâ€" a gayety "^""id be to you comfort, security and Ah I there lay the charm. Other men hail been perhans, ordinarily happy even with a love they hud kniiwn to In- not lilt c);];el her theirs; liiil it was not SI) with liiin. Ho was eiiiirely differ- ent. Heart, and .soul, and sweet body .she was all his. Once again he eiiiibi hear her voice, rising out of I lie many tiine.s she had sworn it to him. He reached the entraniui gate at lu.st iinil entered the limg avenue, now dark ns I'.rebiin, lieciuse of Ihe overhanging ir inches. Ho struck n match and saw liy hi.s watch that it was five minutes past eleven. So late I He hoiied she had not gone to IkhI. If .so, his sweet programme would Iw in et a measure spiiiled. He knew that she sat up very often almost nntil midniKliI reading; liul now that she was iiway she would - ~ no doubt, feel lonely, and Would, pro- footsteps as he walked down the lial bably, retire earlier than usiml. | cony to its end where his own den lay \ turn in the avenue, however, told I U" tried I hrf window and found it uh wantonly cast there out of the prodig- ality of their numliers, upon the floor. .\11 this in a dull way was k«own to Dund.as, though he did not lielieve he saw anything except the scene being enacted at the furthest end of the room. All his semses were riveted up- on the spot, where on satin couch, her dainty bead nestled luxurioudy amongst the cushions, layâ€" bis wUel She was dressed in a loose white tea- gown, an exquisite mass of soft laces, a little open at the throat, and with wide sleeves that, falling l«ckward as she lifted her arms, left all their snowy loveliness naked to the shoulder. One of these arms were thrown around Lord Varley's neck. He was kneeling beside her on the ? round, leaning over her so that his ace was close to hers. Both hia arms were clasped around her sup- ple waist. Donna was talking gayly, but in a low wbitiiier. A soft, happy smUe, a sniile a little languid, parted bi-r lips. "Ah I to-morrow night I" exclaimed ' I*** !r.'? "iswer to something she had said. "Where shall we b« to-morrow night »â- ' "Far from here, at all events," re- turned she, lightlyj "Far from the s_tit ingpioprieiy ol this intoleralile bole. And, oh, ble.sBcd thought! far from the immaculate Dundas." "A fool so blind is hardly deserving even of one's pity," said Varley, con- temptuously. •Blind to what? My faults? What .1.. unlover-like speech!" As she spi.ke, -she ran her white slender fingers slow- ly, luigeruig through his hair, as though to_ touch him was sweet to her. "Have vou a fault?" . '^P"^- •'ust one little one. You know It.' She leaned even nearer to him, and smiled mto his eyes. " "Tia loving thee too well.' " HLs arms tightened their clasp around her. A low, long sigh escaiwd liim. For a minute there was silence, broken only liy the beating of his heart; and then IJonnii fell back a little from him, and liroke into a low, delicious laugh of heartfelt amusement. "If ho could only see me now I" she said, in a subdued tone, yet every syl- lalile reached the oars of the listening man standing slH^ll-l)oun(^ frozen Ik-.- hind the curtain, as clearly as though they had been shouted in his ears, "Was «Her a man so liefooled ? You should have seen him sometimes, when l ran up ro him to offer one of my pretty, in- noieiit. wifely care.sses to the aul liiir of my boredoinl Ilia face would lie a pic- tureâ€" ho would hold me from him at arm's lengthâ€" si>-to prolong thi' joy of It. aud laugh with an idiotic ilelight when 1 pretended to [Kiut at being kept from^ his embrace so long! I'ahl Poor old SaniMiml Sometimes 1 have seen his lips moved aa he thanked Heaven for Ihe gift of my love. Mine! What a comedy, wlien one thinks of you wait- ing tor me in the shruliliery at the very moment I" She laughed again. The old, noisi'less augh this time. And as he watched her through the lace haiiging.s, the fingers of ihe listening man closed with a reinor.seless grip \ip.in the velvet cur- tain he wa« holding back. "What a little devil you are!" said Varley, in a tone of ali;«)luto admira- tion. "Your little devil, at all evenlsl" re- turned she, tightening the arm that clas|ied his neck, and drawing hiiu near- er to her. , "And my very soull" wbisperoil ho, in a tone of open p...H.sion pressing his lips wilh a vehenienl force to the ex- quisite naked arm that l>ru.shed his cheek, "Donna, tell me once again that you love inel" "It is too poor a word," murmured she, tremulously. And then she sw.iyed a little toward him; her head sunk umm hiB breast. . . . Their lips met. Mr. Dundas stepimd back into the darkness noiselessly as he bad come. Onee again the Persian rugs came lo his aid, dulling the .sound of his swift that jested on the grave's brink. Was there no grave misgiving, no hidden sense of fear, to warn tfcm that the end of all things was at hand? He pushed aside the curtains with a bold movement, and stood revealed. (To Be Continued.) comparative affluence; and it is deniedl Well I We all have to suffer in this life, and if some among us think it their duty to help the overladen and succor the distressed, others are as the lisvite and the priest, and take care to give the wounded t>y the wayside a wide berth. But these excellent Samaritans are not always our rela- tions; nor are our best frienils always our closest blood. We often make our deareist and best out of the chance strangerâ€" the angel unawares â€" met with casually and by the merest kind of haphazard. Yet, that chance meet- ing may change the whole current ol our life, anil lh» angel unaware mAy prove to be the guardian of our day* till life's end is reached. UNCOMFORTABLE RELATIOKS. The DlirerenI Ways In Whirh Thrr Are Trraird by Their More Fortannlr Frleadn. Few fajuilies are exempt from the burden of uncomfortable relationsâ€" now Iboje Who have risen above their ori- ginal status and are stuck-up, proud and supcrtilious ; now those who have fallen In-low tholr lawful and inherit- ed birthrigrht, and are mendicant, ra- pacious, a d»!ad weight on your hands and a perpetual blister on your liack. The one set snub you as an inferior creature with whom they have noth- ing to do ; the othara disgrace you by their habit of begging and borrowing from every good easy soul who will give or lend, always backing their de- mands with the credit of your name and the fact of their relationship. You go Into the country among the coun- try (leopie where your birth entitles you to stand. Before long you hear how your nephew, the impecunious was- trel, hshB written begging letters to your new friends, bringing forward , your name as a voucher for his own i real stays, strongly boned, steeled, and It i. . i.iit .- „:ii I 11 J I lacedâ€" for mens u.se. As to the second It IS a bitter pill to swallow, and you | reasim, he thinks that "there can be are on the horns of a dilemma, which j nothing effeminate in a man using any means in his power to preserve his fig- ure." He would follow the new wo- man, however, in tiding very short and louse corsets for cycling, rowing and riding. To the third re^ison he makes reply that "no conscientious physician will be found who can affirm that he h;us known of any ill health Ining caus- ed by corsets worn as they are at the pnvient time by the majority of ladiea^ viz., firmly, but not too tightly laced." MEN SHOULD WEAR CORSETS. Prarllrti Defentird hy an Cugll >l>ninn Wh Vlvr« Hlo KriuuBi. "A Male Wearer of Corsets," in an open letter to the London Telegraph, defends the practice which his signaturo indicates. lie oscrilws the prejudice against the pniotice to the thrtte fol- lowing reitsons:â€" "1. Because it is very exceptional for men to wear corsets. -. Because there is a prevalent idea that it is effeminate for them to do so. 3k Because they are consiilered injurious to health." With regard to the first of tbt^e reasons, he declares that the practice Ls steadily on the increase, es- pecially among army officers. One firm of corset-makers alone, he says, ba.s m.ade in the post year more than 900 pairs of corsetsâ€" not mere Ixdts, but we know is the moat oml)ajra.ssing |>oei- Hon that we can bo in. Either you have to foul your owtj ne«st by telling Ihe truth and showing how your broth- er's son has disgracu'd himself so as to l» an out law from his family, or you have to II© under the imputation of alioniinable cru<Nlty and meanneiss to your ownâ€" you who could so well af- ford to keep Ibis poor young fellow from the streets, where it seems he is now re<liu-«d, to scratch up a miser- able living along with the other waifs and strays and human jackals of the CHARM-ING UGLY MRN. The illustrious men in history who wo'o distinguished as much for the fas- cination which they exercised over the .submerged t<^nthl Or, lt^ss than the | '"''' *'"' "* ^"^ ""''â- " talents and ability substantial dLsgrace assoiiated with i "'""'• *' * â- â- "'^' V'"'" *"'' -"sisnifit-'ant fhi. io,.=i..„i'„ .... u .1. L I'" KFI^'aram-e. Julius Caesar was • this wastrels name, you have the hu- | very ill-favored man, and yet when • ro n,lmT:,^m"Ti ''„^^^^^ ",'''"' °fi awkward as his face was plain, while fur.miJ u .tu.vl^ ', ' ° '''â- Â°.''-% 'T'' J"'"' Wilkes, who had the poWer to .us uui) lK< .lus,x«ed to give a trifle for subjugate an> woman who spoke to him for even five minutes, was admitted by his own .showing to bo the ugliest the .sake of holy cluvnty and on the «lrenglh c>r her relationship to the owner of Microineg;i.s Hill. l'b«\sc trials are hard enough to liear, and only oim thing is woi:s»oâ€" the unen- durable shame aud disgrace of your ^aIUl\sak<^s and relations, who, when they come into the Police Court, drag your name through the mire lus well as their own, and involve you in the dls- liimor they have courted for thein- .selvos. You have never done n aliady thing nor come into public disrepute. Y'ou have (wid your way with hoiuvsty and dLscharged your duiies with puni-tiial- ily. Vou have kept the Comimind- ment.s, and no man can bring a charge against you of unfair dealingâ€" no wo- num of untrue .slander. Hut all this counts for nothing with your prosiier- ous ivlaliona, who has risen above his original standing while you have kept steadily in vours. You live in a sub- urb and he ba.s a hoiLse on a fashionaldo ' .street. You go in cars and second I man in Kngland in his time. him that this was not the case. Through I I»stonod. Throwing uji the sash softly, I class;' be drives a pair of showy Cys ' blii WAFTLNG FOR THE BIRD. A small l>oy who had a great dislike for school returned home for dinner a little earlier than usual. Tommy, you naughty Uiy, you have Iven playing ruant. said his mother; a little dicky bird came in the window and told me so. The next ninrning Tommy set out for siiiDol as usu.il. During morning his mother heard a noise from the far end of the kitchen, and, lookini^ around there, saw Tommy crouched under the talde. Tommy, you rascal, what are yo" doing there ? Seeing that he was dlsooverod he crawled out and. holding up a l)ric> which he had by him, said: I was waitih' to cro;vk that dicky N,