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_ $| the Peéople. JÂ¥ & ; CHAPTER X. r . ‘The Spider in the Glass: next few days I had occaâ€" g e with the agencies to which for a.situation as companion in a school or . The hoi eteenrat det #18, when she had heard list of my uation. But the next time that 1 went to make enquiries all would ..podluwl.réurvdm «imost forbidding, telling me that there was a very little chance Anding 1t uu:‘q‘ b m‘ 3 1 sbould have t lictle of it; but, w‘.-y mother‘s advice that it to have numerous "strings to sa¢‘® bow," I had laid my claims before c«averaiâ€" agencies. Andâ€"it certainly was semarkable, I thought, that in every » speedily obtaining me a desirable sit thester. He wonted t> "Waow her famâ€" Uy," and she was to;nl to xfi m'“ the noon dinner next day, hich would be Sunday. _ _ _ I not wish to meet my future br Inâ€"law, and besides, I thought fin Xamily gathering would be te? without me, so I dined at «s particularly early hour on & piece of bread and disapregred before Mr. Toms Stephens was c:p.'xa. I would take a long walk, I thought, and not return untll he was certain to have escorted the lady of his.chojce to some Sunday afternoon entértainment. . t i. Hardly had 1 reached the end of the street, turning into another which led towards Commercial road, when I alâ€" mostâ€"ran into the arms of the man who had stared after me one day as I left an employment agency. ..Me gave me a queer look, and passed on,.while 1 hurâ€" rled away, fearing that he mightâ€"folâ€" low.© Prerently, I glanced back, and was. rellevs x‘mth-tmvum in sighi T ntering after me, with his hai the pogkets of his Sunday coat, wa a young man who lived in the "upper flat" of the house opposite my mother‘s in Easel street. His name, I also knew from ‘Totsey, was Welcome, his business was a mys« tery, his fiobey j {éntiful; and my own experiente on the two Sundays I had spent in Peckhar had proved him of a friendly disposit! :. In. our street, vhen a young man wished to make the acquaintance of a young woman, he helped himself to it, so to speak; no introduction was neâ€" cessary. . And (Mr. Welcomeâ€"inaptly namedâ€"had twice .attempted to force i# claims upon my, notice. Both times 1 had eluded him by hurrying home, ‘and raising a shout of laughter from ‘Totsey, â€"who had observed the manoeuâ€" vrey from the window. But toâ€"day 1 could not bear to go back. I was vexed that I had glanced over my shoulder, lest the man should, think I intendéd to encourage him, and I hastened on, &# if 1 did not know of his existence. _ HMe could walk faster than I could, however, and in two or three minutes he was at my side. â€" 8 * "Look ‘ere," said he, breathing fast, and suggesting lately imbibed spirit, "you needn‘t be in such a dashed ‘urty." * â€" *L don‘t know you, sir," I said, with dignity. "Be good cnmhâ€"â€"_"_ __ _ ‘"Then it‘s your own fault," Mr. Welâ€" come broke in with a cackle. "I want to know you bad ehough," he went on, keeping pace with me. "And I‘m in earnest this time. Anybody in the stréet can tell you you‘ve made & dead mash of me. In two weeks you‘ve &wme what your sister‘s bin trying to do for un‘uw_nm Bye, don‘t l;olu ‘fl } W ‘under feet, y‘know! ..aa Pusiness. Honest, 1 do!" ‘ou can hate no business with me," #m. *Please leave me, If you i‘t you will force me to go home." _ "I wouldn‘t stand much of that kind o‘ rottin‘ from any other gell I know," returned my companion. ‘"But you‘re different,. You can chaff n e &ll you URO, t inkies mip.see you‘re Wortn ‘avin‘. . I ays, it‘s just the dye for Richâ€" me .. Was you ever there? Wouldn‘t you.like t got" 1 turned round abruptly and began *fi‘ towards Easel street. "I not like to go to Richmond4, thank you," I said. ‘"Perhaps you mean well; but if you wish me to think *flin.m&numu leave me on ::t‘fll; but, availing himself, nos Mt, of his acquaintance with® my W.‘:;‘: Too psa s wany hen ookag nasd at anin other but 1 did not t not -"-g-â€"fiâ€"nbfln- the first moment of indecision, 1 i g‘.‘ro‘-w:l':hl-lu.l 9 ie ecme..n-l‘uflb P r y, Vhing® with me, and even leas pleasant, If possible, than befors. nox e tamie mai h o c gible e I ie Teâ€" on es ce isnn es t mine. was often insulting, taunting we because, with all my boasted acâ€" complishments and my fine lady airs, 1 F 2t vo° saimor} i s as Infdnudic l the "Bafu Stormers," "Fortunc‘s Yport," "Miss Nobody," "Her & ! rapal Highhets "Lilly Mary of the Batk Hrouse,."* de. * & . mwahey." . T woree «s h n â€"~ hile, poor, mongy ~Was Ti aiir id n romad tweive week for and Jodging, which sum. Fan sharplt hinted was insufficient, .as. my wants were so much more extravagant thas those of the others. | Peanics for omulâ€" m:lffi&ih""hfl Uy to be criminal 'tm-mub ter of washing bills, and my purchase of. a @bheap bathâ€"tub was almost the ressoy oC‘% quarrel. Several times Fan und Totsey asked for a trifiing loan, and J not bear , but at " h work as penniâ€" and 1 not tb io. My heart sank at the thought of parting with the n&oh Jewelry .given me in happler days, each ornament a memory; but..there. Was..no .QLReL..NAY { could not be a burden on my relatives w on society at large. So I went to the sox where my most valuable possesâ€" sions were stoped. s f I had Itsince the night »f my 1k Mq& zhcn. after the. t tion, I had reâ€" curned my to their place ; sut I remembered well in which tray the jewelâ€"case had been laid. I lifted the pretty dressés, stil} folded (with sachets of orrisâ€" apd violets, butâ€" the case was not to be seen. flax my seart beating. q y, I took the tray, and searc through another awnd another, then going over all again for the second time,. The jewelâ€"case was gone! @!:!!! I would not believe in my loss, It was impossible that anyone should have stolen it, L told myself. I must, after all, have put it away in one of the other boxes. ‘Trembling, my hands mwlllu h¢:1)I‘l. I {l’mchd each trunk, the end I had to acknowledge defeat. I had ‘been robbed; and 1 dared not let my mind dwell on the hateful solution of the mystery which would come up before it. Fan had indulged in a great deal of new lnorl of late, and, when quesâ€" tioned by â€"her mother, had flushed, sayâ€" Ing it was nobody‘s business how she had saved up the money. She had, and that was enough. It was a pity if a gifl who worked as hard as she did shouldn‘t have something a little deâ€" cent, espectally now that she had a T-;;." man" of her own. _ She ha@ bought two new dresses and as many hats, to say nothing of a huge feather boa like a varlegated snake; and she had oven a little gaudy jewelry which might have beemâ€" bestowed by Mr. Stephens or might not. Bometimes I had left my keys where Fan might have taken them for her own purposes. I could not help remem= bering &fll. but I tried nok to think of It, and I would not for all the world have accused her. I spoke hesitatingly to my mother of what had happened, nuggesting no explanation, but she, poor woman, always nervous, worn and weary, fiew into a passion, demanding to know at once whether I suspected her or one of my sisters as the thief. Afterwards, she was sorry for her anâ€" ger, and for some harsh words she had uttered in haste, eyven offering to call in the police, though it would be sure to give woffence ‘"In the streot." But T ref I was certain that I should never ag@in ‘ee my jewels unless & thing fi‘ Tppcn which I would @a* than their value to prevent. ‘ only hope I had left lay in sellâ€" or .@ some of my. pretty C '§n forâ€"I presently disâ€" co â€"a silver tollet thi not in had Â¥anished .with u..",:..u. cas& . y ‘That evening my mother and.f . went out with large parcels W rms. I was hot, and tingling Wwith â€"conâ€" sciousness, feeling as if evéryone we met must know that we were going to the pawnbroker‘s. It was easy enough to say to one‘s self: "What does it matter? Who thinks anything about you? or, If anyone shoul}d, of what iImâ€" portance is that in your life?" But at did matter; and it was of importance just the same. _ PR Eie chees ‘The pawnbroker would not have my things. If they had been men‘s clothâ€" Ing it would have been different, or it 1 had any old jeweiry or s{fiver, he would take that. ‘ But he had no call for ladies‘ dresses, and could give se little advance that it would not be worth while to part with my possesâ€" siong â€" I went home and cried itterly, with my face turned to the wall in the little hard bed where Totsey and I lay (I can hardly say siept) together, _ _ Next morning, for the first time since my arrival in Easel street, there was & letter for me. Fan had gone to the factory when it came, but my mother and Totsey, who was not yet strong enough to go back to work, watched me excitedly as I broke the envelops. What they expected, I did not know. Perhaps they could scarcely have told themselves, but the envelope was of thick, creamy paper, sealed with a crest, and it must have been evident to them that my correspondent was not of their world, but of that reshote and dazszling one which I had left. Eo e oo 1 knew the instant my eyes fell upom the clear, precise handwriting, with the affected Greek "o‘s," that the lettar was from Roger; and I felt nmiy colof rige as I broke it open. _ Often 4 had thought it strange, since he had professed such a passionate reâ€" ward for me, that Re had never come F m l E. _ Ww L x .w plent FOR OVER SIXTY YEARS oo ns Tariit mD Y mal ready to can him "lover." But we would be married, and we would see many lands together, and we would see magy {aNAS AN@RTCNT if Iâ€"wished. In a week it might all be arranged, and I could choose where I ;:A travel. ~Bhould it be Bwitszerâ€" the Engadine, or the Black Forâ€" days on & yacht? He would hardly ex: ist untll my answer; but I must at least give him credit for patience in the 1 gaye him credit for policy: and I thought that I could read his thoughts mmm-mnllm seen & skeleton through fliesh by ald of ~ He had : atib he that lm"g. of Intolerâ€" able environment. . “mum kept my miother always in sight, and had finally given me ber address with exactly this contingency in his mind. worked out according mm-:mnmurhd tood he offered to me when I was starving. was not,. after all, tempting enough.â€"He was very: clever, but he was not sufficiently clever to underâ€" stand that all the money and all the tuxpries and pleasures which might be mine through him. would lose their value because they could not be separâ€" ated from him. It would be like offerâ€" ing to.a thirsty man a glass of exquisâ€" nc Ahey wudhv=@~Aa in eap uP yove < m « the lec \could not conceive being thirsty enough to drink that champagne; and my heart was bitter against Roger 1 would have liked not to answer the letter; but fearing lest, in that case, he might come to Easel street, I sent a few words writter on the common, blueâ€" lined paper with which I wrote almost daily, offéring my services fo various advertisers in the newspapers. _ Wlen the envelope was addressed to Arrigh Mell Court, where it seemed that Roger was living now. I rememâ€" bered"That 1 had no more stamps, and Rot‘a penny to buy one. I must go out Neue e C C P Ind try to sell the things refused by the pawntbroker, to & seconaâ€"nand elothes dealer. _ s s BmRUSh ORRRICCC I had expected to obtain at least twenty pounds for what I had taken, for I knew that the things must originâ€" ally have cost fully three times that sum, and they had been scarcely worhn before I went into mourning. But I escaped at last, browâ€"beaten, tongueâ€" tled. and thankful to have wrested four pounds .from the secondâ€"hand clothes dealer. Her husband had been called in to her assistance, and 1 was asâ€" sured by both that I had been cheated by my dressmakers, that fashions had suddenly changed, the season was alâ€" most over, and it was a favor to jake my things at all. * Meoeprasprense RAW NNNE n CC Still, i.lud something to show for my journey; I was at least able to post my letter, and to go back in a tram which 4 h o triantitdernirt +o3 a chlica csnlsAfi tcacinets would take me threeâ€"quarters of the way to Easel atreet. I rested after the battle, and shut my eyes, only to open them again with a start when the conâ€" ductor came to demand the fare. I slipped my hand Into my poeket for the purse lately replenished. But the purse was gone. My face told the story of my misforâ€" tune. In an instant everyone in the tram seemed to know what had hapâ€" pened. "Lost you money, miss?" enquired the conductor EMW PUMENECIOC 1 could hardly answer. It might have been worse, for I might have been suspected of trying to "steal a ride" on false pretenses; but I did not think of that at the time, and my cup of deâ€" spair seemed full to overflowing, ‘"My purse has been stolen," I said. "It was in my pocket when I came into the tram, I know." ‘Two or three people had got out since then. I had not noticed their deparâ€" ture, but I remembered, when my opâ€" posite neighbor reminded me of the fact, that xon‘ the persons . lately gone was #@Woman who had sat next me. She had come in as I did, and, after sitting down, crowded against my side so that I attempted to move further away; had asked of the tram in general how soon we would reach a certain streetâ€"a street whose name I had not heard before. A man had inâ€" formed her that, to pass the street in question, she must take another tram, whereupon, muttering something, she had risen ang gone out. SE m nF es Already the tram was half a mile away. All agreed that it was useless for me to try to do anything, exgept to report the affair at the police station. A nice old lady with a market basket paid my fare and called me "my dear," saying she hoped that there had not been much money in the purse; and my fellowâ€"passengers soon forgot me in an animated discussion of other exâ€" periences . with . pickpockets, which seemed at once to make them . all friends. I arrived at Rasel street at last, very miserable. Everything was now to be done over again, and I had parted from my possessions without having Anyâ€" thing to show for them. I knew that when I told my story I should be reâ€" proached for carelessness, and I opened the door of the front room with relucâ€" tance. _ "Shella!" exclaimed a wellâ€"known voice, and Roger Cope sprang from & chair as I entered. _ _ _ > 0 =___ _ I started back with a faint cry of disâ€" may; but, before I could carry out my quicklyâ€"formed design . of running away, he had taken two strides across the room and caught me by both hands. My mother, busy with the preâ€" parations for our frugal noohtide meal, looked on at the greeting with a knowâ€" ing smile, and I was suddenly pricked with the conviction that Roger had been enlisting her as an ally. ‘ "Donymm.hlbm-s"h pieaded, in his charming voice. Well groomed, perfectly dressed, with an orchid in his buttonhole, and, if anything, handsomer than ever, he was like a bird of Paradise alighting in a barnyard. * "I cun‘t say it," I answered. "I am not glad. You said in. your letter, which I only go: this morning, that you would wait for word from me. I have written since to beg that you would "That‘s what I was afraid of," laughed Roger, quite boyishly. "I have ..g-u- sou!; . you see, I really stay away any longer." "Fenny, I‘m at you, bein‘ so ,..--u:flmmh’t want him." scolded my mother, "If "t one of the others, now, but u'.:n.uyo-‘nm! Why, and Totsey would know better." My mother brought forward ous vase freshly flled with J . ""5te whil the Abiteinan‘s 66 Which Tells of Roger‘s Allles. CHAPTER XL ! while, #so that wenay qu! past and future?"* ; _ "I would rather not," 1 Pencleimed . Pregurce Anftur n [ 1. Jt was right that 1 «l ‘ g'w v rev to bope that & 1:.‘- | Bhelis, do be good to me! 1 swear you C mlonn‘:. 4 never ".fl love yo:.." L-.?m. "And could appy together. o Ré: -_nuuumum.u.:} mean it just as muchâ€"even more, if possibleâ€"now. If my life lay near yours \ we might be agreeable acquaintafces at most. As it is, we can only beâ€"stranâ€" gers." â€" * C watt s m id yous 2atfer weade we snink pow neo ns mmruum&md :z-lv_ud. There‘s nothing mor« 10 the immaculate hat which stood among the cracked -'-’-' and cooking uten> sils -'-'"ta“'.r.u.."v My . _moved between. hin -Mt:z@-”»: it «4 "Oh, don‘t go, sir! Don‘t take her at her word!" she efaculated. "Girls will ::‘IM.-.' She‘ll be sorry enough by vxfi- could think so," sighed Rogâ€" er, looking like a persecuted A::L. "But I must go. @Shella doesi‘t . "It‘s my house, not hers!" cried my nother, sharply. cvie onl â€" Re l come _to make her UnRAPDY. _‘ wish for her happiness more than ADYâ€" thing else in the world. I‘ll go now, though I leave my heart behind, as she knows well. Yet I can‘t give up hope â€"not quiteâ€"till she is the wife of &nâ€" other man." 7. With this for an "exit" speech he was gone, dramatlic to the endâ€"the sympathetic hero of the scene in which I played the female villain. a As the door closed upon the handâ€" some figure my mother turned upon me. "You must be mad!" she shricked. "Do you know what you‘re about, girl? Do you know what you‘ve just done?" _‘"The only thing I could do," I anâ€" swered. But‘I was almost frightened at the look in her haggard eyes. _ _ "You‘ve deceived me," she went on, flercely. ‘"You‘ve just the same as Med. You came here and pretended you‘d been driven away from your old home. It wasn‘t true. You left because you were a fool. And now, as if luck was never tired of following some people that don‘t deserve it, you‘ve got the chance again. You sha‘n‘t refuse it, you sha‘n‘t. Such e man! Why, t.lfl;‘ © 0 iE Come n e ced i ES can‘t be hardly his like in England. He might be a prince. And you‘ve got nothin‘, nothin‘ but your face. He‘s got everything; all he wants is for you to take it and him with it. But you won‘t." "I can‘t," I said, quietly, though my volce was shaking. "You don‘t underâ€" stand." "I understand that you ought to be in Bedlam. Why, a gueen‘s deughter might smnap at him; and youâ€"but I‘ve no patience; I can‘t taik about 4t. 1 can just tell you this, my house is no place for fools." _ _ "Very well," I eold, faintly, "since you think me that, since you don‘t want‘ me here, Iâ€"I‘ll go." _ 22 "Oh, I don‘t mean that, Jenny!" she cried, her tone changing quickly. "I‘ve got & temper, as you might know by this time. You oughtn‘t to aggravate itâ€"just for nothin‘." She came to me and laid both thin, workâ€"worn hands on my shoulders, tears bursting sudâ€" dealy from her eyes. "My girli" she sobbed. ‘"‘My girl, do thisâ€"for me. For us all. Think what it means. Think what it would be for Fan and Totsey. I don‘t say for myâ€" self. It don‘t matter much any more. But they‘re young. They‘ve had a hard lite, and they‘ve po better before them, unless you do.this . IL.was galkin‘,with himâ€"Sir Roger Cope, I mean. He‘d do anything « Iif he was your h\ubu\{ fl?‘.fl?‘ so straight out. _ I was so happy, I could have screamed. I never thought for an inâ€" stant you‘d say ‘No‘ to him, and ruin all our lives." With that worn face and those beâ€" seeching eyes so near mine, I wa: iumb. My heart smote me. How, sel fish I had been, never even to think o what I could do for these poor soulâ€" . itarved creatures, who. y M‘- their veins! How nlt:w'..“l J was even now, because my mother‘» ippeal left me cold, and the voice 0i ny spirit whispered: "You cannot d« his thing that is asked of you, for them or anyone else an earth." I could bear o more. "Oh, mother mother, you are killing.me!" I eried ind flung myself free from her clasp ng handsâ€"not because the contac‘ was hateful, but because I was desâ€" perate, scarcely knowing what I did ‘I‘ll work for you allâ€"I‘l get money somehow, butâ€"I‘d rather die than marâ€" â€"y Roger Cope. I told him I didn‘ love him, but it‘s worse than that, ] hate him. He‘s a hypocriteâ€"a snake." I walited for no moreâ€"I could not enâ€" dure to hear her answer, and have tc retort upon that again. ‘Turning, 1 flew out of the room, and, running to my own, dared to boit myself in. ‘Time passed on, and nobody came to call me. I knew that the dinner hout must be long past, and I was faint with hunger, for I had breakfasted on a silce of bread; but I wished to think out some definite plan for the future before I saw my mother again. 1 wished to do this, yet 1 could not; for the preliminary pangs of starvation had begun their work. My head swam:; L could not concentrate my thoughts. . At last evenin@ was falltue. 1 had tayed for at least five hours in the \ittle back room. It was time for Fan to come homg from the factory. J wondered greatly what had been hapâ€" pening outside, and why L had been left «o long undisturbed. The silence umo‘ »minous, but at last it was ly "roken by a great clamor in the next room. Some heavy object fell with a loud thud, accompanied by the crash of nreaking.dishes. Above.the nolsg rQs# In and village may be had, â€" â€" the But 1 didn‘t ver ind undecided, there was a sound ol rushing footsteps in the passage, 8 weight was dushed against the door, w hicis ntmmu;‘:pmo. almosi lm broke in upon me, her boid young face disâ€" wm!n'nuhnmtz t-vna.-‘uhpq’nltx tuug:uhuu-.bfl-. way can. It‘s me earns theâ€"money ‘ere. I keep this ‘ouse, and 1 h‘orde: you out of it. ~D‘ye ‘ear?" : .fiuuumrnu.uww well nigh left my body. I could .-x”: youâ€"mean ?" "She hasks what 1 mean!" mocked Fan, furiously turning to my mothe: und Totsey, who had come into the ::-:-.u-.n standing cigse to the ay of the back room. Mrs. Migâ€" gits from upstairs had rushed down also, and was hanging over the banisâ€" ters, drinking in the scene with greedy relish, her children crowding behind Fan did not care that the Miggits family saw and heard; she did not care that in all probability a larger auâ€" dience was by this time collecting ai the front door. But I cared; I could hnot shriek my answers, like a fishwife, u-,luwnnm_lnrdowu. in‘ the whole ny‘bour‘cod ring with talk, ‘H met me at the fact‘ry, and we ad it out. Then I comes ‘ome, and I ear the chance you‘ve thrown awayâ€" the chance fur the lot of us. . You. might o‘ myde the world a sort 0‘ | eaven for us all, and I‘d of smapp® ‘ my fingers at Tom. But instld of tha vou sits here in h‘léleness, eatin‘ m. bread. I won‘t stend it, I won‘t. 1 mever liked you. Now the sight of you !‘ml your airs mykes me sick! Out you go this night." _ ROume 2l e P C *Tom ‘as now thrown me over!" she panted. "That‘s wot I mean. And it‘s because of you. "E‘s ‘eard things about youâ€"things ‘e wouldn‘t tell me, But e won‘t ‘ave nothin‘ more to do with lu so long as you‘re in this ‘quse, makâ€" d I took my mother‘s shaking handa _ | and pressed them. Perhaps I ought to ~ | have kissed her, but somehow I could not. I murmured something confused about seeing her again, and then, when _| I had given the sobbing Totsey a fleetâ€" ~ | ing emprace, I pushed blindly past the * | group of curious ones who had gathâ€" ered in the passage, and went out into *‘ | the open air. Eo oneme ras She pushed me from her, and I stagâ€" gered backwards, balf falling on the bed. "I will go," I gasped. "After thisâ€"I could not stay." I got up again, feeling strangely G@azed, imy arms bruised, and sparks dancing before my eyes from the rough treatment I had received. "Â¥ou‘re‘ too hard on her, Fan," I heard my mother plead. "She has paid her way up to now, and well, too. I‘d never have charged her so much board if you hadn‘t made such a fuss. We ve bin better off with her than without her; and though she‘s an aggravation there‘s nothing against her character. I don‘t care what Tom Stephens says. He‘s a beast to set one sister against another, anyhow. And mebbe she‘ll come round and see things @ifferent from what she does now." _ "She goes out 0° this ‘ouse toâ€"night, or I do, tht'-rulL"V prono_unced Fan. La d 2 0 Bd snn dfi S I had been almost too giddy to stand at first, but now I groped to the wall, where I had hung up my hat and coat, after I had come in, hours ago. â€" "Iâ€"I want to go," ! atammered. "Don‘t worry, mother. I shall be all right. I won‘t stoop to defend, myself. And Iâ€"know people who will take me in.. ‘This must have come sooner @r later, I see now. I‘ll write to you, and â€"and by and by I‘ll send you money, I hope. Goodâ€"bye. You haye meant to "Butâ€"â€"" my mother had begun, to falter, when Fan cut her short. "Don‘t you begin with mno ‘butel‘" ::‘:flod. "I won‘t ‘ave ‘em. I‘m the winner, I am. I‘ve got the right to sye who stops or goes." Her great black eyes dominated my mother. The girl was like some sayâ€" age young animal at bay. I did not wonder that the two who knew her moods best cowered before her now. ‘There was a look on her face, with the twitching lips apart showing strong white teeth, which said that she might do me a mischief if 1 defied her, _ I had told my mother that I kead friends who would take me in if 1 asked, and I had not deliberately utâ€" tered a falsehood. I had only said the first thing that occurred to me, with the desperate impulse to escape. Inâ€" deed, there were doubtless people in the old set from which I had vanished who would receive me if I threw myself upon their kindness, but I had no inâ€" tention of doing that. Dusk was falling early, for a storm threatemed. There were faint grumâ€" biings of thunder, which I was scarceâ€" ly conscious of hearing. Great purple cloudâ€"bank# boiled up from the west and overspread the sky. As I ran out into. the street, a big drop or two of rain splashed down upon my upturned face. ‘The man Welcome, just coming home . from his unknown ‘"business," caught sight of me as I left the house, and I saw by his eye that it was in his mind to follow. I quickened my pace, and hurried round the corner. Then I "began to run, flying through street afâ€" ter street until I knew that he must ‘nvo lost scent. At last I stopped, beâ€" wildered and completely lost. CHAPTER XIL â€" Waterloo Bridge. It seemed to me that I had come to the end of the worldâ€"my world. Noâ€" body wanted me. Nobody cared. It would be better if I were dead. . Rain began to pour down in sheets, and I was soon wet to the skin. The streats were emptying, for people had hurried into sheiter from the storm, and only here and there could be seen an umbrellia, black as a scurrying bat over the pavement, that shomne with rain beneath the gasâ€"lamps. It occurred to me that I might stand under the protection of some doorway until the worst of the storm should be over; but in my dull despair it seemed hardly worth while to care for the wretched body which had ceased to be of importance to me or anyone else. Bo I went through the downpour, stolidly; und at last, when I had walked for a rery long time and it was really dark, I smime to a great bridge over the It was in my way, going straight on, | away exâ€"President to coine t6 it; and I proceeded at first M‘Oho-thp! stesped in the strange apathy that was | his Presidency. part of my condition. But my eyes Tell the black ter flowing unâ€" Mra. John Flockt & .-I and I stopped suddenly, fasâ€" man attempted to elnated.. It was as Iif someone had Hamilton by takin spoken in my ear, saying: ‘‘Thera‘s no | Probably recover. :mm-mmm Charles Mann of may be somewhere In the Humber thr y= You could find out " |a eanoe, in which ® ‘ l=~o foms were coming « __ A despatch from 5 it back, done to trembling # f fax ~£] x > [strength. Their . They have a & | Ets M 1 in the L) small of the W PAI\ back that takes Eks 1 _ * all the life and ambition out of them. They feel W lifeless. 1 h‘l’: hard work yon’v; been thrown extra wor on m%y- ‘Eq ery out in ;mm through uching back. You feel wretched all over because the kidneys are not working right and poison is cireulating in {x:“ system.,. ‘The kidneys must have helpâ€"better K‘ai" them the benefit of the best dneg Medicine made â€"Dr. Pitcher‘s Backache Kidney Tabletsâ€"the preseription of a kidâ€" ney specialistâ€"the result of years of study of kidney discases. PAIN PREVENTED SLEEP. Mrs. N. Laviolette, Arnprior, Ont., & Yif < ov b oy ioA at # bs T # be f . A pf VAb fe PA L s 1":' .b,?/‘“ bt FIT +152 .1 ambition out of the: du!l, depressed, lifel« Wcm%m They M. uestion the kidney & :Ilfi :.ylflno%.u-d. lhdlnn-â€":é g‘ifl'm nm:.phh:vmlhl::‘-hc vffice, Berlia. less headache. Often I suffered from inâ€" MEDICAL digestion caused by uric acid in my sysâ€" tem. _ These troubles departed after I had t lfi.m'l' .m. -u-gwlndi i-w% W JME&. tmu-m*,,_':‘.m:"‘z Witen es seen. ‘Mm i ay S m nage ever mfl-‘ AETT ldomw:M ci ‘Dn"%‘.‘ 'B"'.m Bas Da. Znc Prrcuxs C to Te sToheAWall m Oneâ€"6" the smâ€" brasures. In my black dress and hat, my slim little figure must have melted into the shadows of night. Two forces in my nature began warâ€" ring together as I looked down at the dark, flowing water, with a thought in my mind that never in my life had harbored there before. "You are young," one volce sald. "Only eighteen. It is pitiful that you, who have been petted and loved, and told that you were beautiful, should die like this. Who knows what the years may yet hold for you if you stay and see?" But the other volce answered: "It‘s no use. What can a girl like you do against the world? You haven‘t a penâ€" ny. You can‘t buy even a piece of bread to eat, and you can‘t ask for charity. You‘re only a little grain of @ust, not of any importance at all. ‘Thousands of girls as young as you must have died in this way. It saved them from worse things, and it wilt save you. You told Roger Cope that you would rather die than marry him. Well, now you cal die. And when he knows, perhaps he will be sorry that he hounded you to such Qn,gl;,di for he will, ly be, more to blame than you." "l{i‘t!l a é?w?ré"s "argument!" the first voice cried. "It would be brave to fight the battle out, weak to throw down your arms at the firsa v:tuck." "No, it‘s brave to die. lt takes courâ€" age to throw yourself over into the cold, deep river, and not struggle or scream for help at the last; to breathe the water into your lungs and be thoked by it till you dérawn. If you don‘t do this thingâ€"now, when you are helpless, without money or friends who would not think it a,great burden to help youâ€"it is because you are afraid of the suffering, the horror." ""ii“u_;_;iciéd thing, an unforgivâ€" able crime, to destroy your own life," appealed the first voice. "No, for God is merciful, and pardon$ all sins," said the other. "He will unâ€" derstand. pg itâ€"mow, while you have the courage!" . s _A whirlwind seemed to snatch my soul in a resistless grasp. Quick as lightning I sprang up on the stone seat. Blind and deaf save to the temâ€" pest of my own spirit, I put life beâ€" hind meâ€"stretched out my arms to death. I thought L was falling, that I had thrown myself over. It was as if my body were lifted by the force of my own passionate selfâ€"abandonment. For an instant I knew nothing. ‘Then a man‘s voice spoke close to my ear. "Poor child! For heaven‘s sake what has brought you to this?" _ ___ _ __ 'hi'fn&.’&’iffi‘&u-' s Dx. Zoca Precexz Co., To _ I had not fullén. The river was not to have me after all. This man‘s hands had dragged me back, snatching me from the stone bench and holding me fearfully to his side. I did not answer his question. I don‘t think that he expected it. 1 did not even struggle to free myself, for the conviction of his strength robbed me of all mine, as he halfâ€"carried, halfâ€" led me off the bridge. I had not seen his face, knowing only that he was tall and very, very strong; but suddenâ€" ly a light dazzled my eyes, and, scarceâ€" ly realizsing what I did, I looked up at him At the same instant his eyes were on my face, and by the exclamation of asâ€" tonishment he gave, I guessed that it was for the first time toâ€"night. "Great heavens!" he ejaculated. Frost did a lot of damage to fruit and vegetables in western Ontario. Dr. Seward Webb‘s option on the Canâ€" adaâ€" Atlantic expires on Saturday. Mr. John Dmol Peterboro‘ was caught in the y of a shingle mill and killed. The London Daily Telqnx:ndndr stands that the Cabinet has decided to retain the tax on grain. The hiring of laborers is Norway by l-!mhnhâ€"'nw.nvh‘h the number recently engaged for It is stated that Simon Sam, the runâ€" “nmt of Hayti, took $8â€" his Presidency. hlonr'h-::utdlh&h: attempted commit sulcide ::flmiyhklnm They will probably recover. .. A â€" i the. N mmben through the vpectumg af a banoe, in which he and two o:- tons were coming down the river, _ TELEGRAPH BREVITIES. (To be continued.) egy. ahe Ainal ie jonk. > 9 2 dode. P Worer EF %" s 3gp Méols t Py t £o Soaaty Oroae k o e W * MAE Deer ng‘s store, King 8°., Waterioo, | D J * Omrosst Migunty Waterics. Oiterâ€"At DR.O.H_ D(m\'.m.u 2s Ph‘ su a specialist on of the nose, cars. Office hoursâ€"8 to 10.30 a. m., and 7.(0 to 8. 30 p. m. . Officeâ€"Corner ofâ€" and John Ste, Berlin, s AMKES . HAJGHT BNTR TCPR ECS PB m attention paid to the treatment of rheum 1 C obesity, et :mhg::om ty, eto. w-lllâ€" ivomand Seovuchqurept Uniacts, Tibork Btreet W = abort dis io coc ol Ir. Widdon‘t recidenen VW LBY & CLEMENT g Dentist, LD.8., 0 tal Surgeons, D.D.8. â€" Toronto Allbranches of dentistry Janzen‘s Block, Berlin, over Store. Entrance between Fehrenbach‘s ler and Stusbing‘s grocery. W. R.Wilkinson, L.D. $., D.D.$. â€" ILLAR & SI ~ _ Dentist, graduate of both a A Damcao Sttiin of Dentstey. .. the. office the rooms formerly mm" De. Armita King St , Waterloo. A | his permanont +6t8 teeth give the face the appearance PorAbMIN ma';n-nrunu'o or any appesrance llnbh..'g‘h.ey thus remove ali llr of , lips, or ‘oped cheeks.‘ Th‘s , no other Town in Ontario. Pric.s ,. rv asonable for a time Poatntre itabies in rear of R. W. L. HILLIARD. a ~~ Honor grâ€"duate of Toronto University, Gardse ... R.C. T. NOECKER, foam, an exhiUr®UT children‘s hair out. )MMMIEinaniaczirameneve 4: dertake oontracts for painting and paper hang ing in Town and Country G. HUGHES. residence, ocrner of Queen wATERLOO, HONEST HARNESS AT Hou&r g;duuo!'l:nnm UBIV II and Accoucheurs of Ontario. : Qot one of my splendid new sots of Bs now. 1t willimprove the appearance of outfit one hundred per cant. 15. Ofice Open Daily. Office: Canadian Block, Berlin. OHN L. WIDEMAN Tssuer of Marriag ficeâ€"Post Office, St. Jacobe, Ont. IVERY AND EXCHANGE STABLES 8. LUDLOW, HRISTOPHER WOLFRE, Ja. PA s ba baket Square W i orkae -Nm:! Strebel‘s 3 HARNESS SHOP i , Hueger. * Wiateide, oo untanciy on hand. W l MISCELLANEOUS LEGAL DENTAL N. ROCKEL graduate of both Canadian and DENTIST. LIVERIES of Torente HONEST PRI and Princcss Ste.,