The Merthyr Express

s 8 J 7)o not fight shy of 2 1 fame baling because | ? you have no experience. 1 Home baking is simplified | | for everybody by the use of g | ^paisley a g iTndt B y 4 >»| I *• J51our § I the sure raising powder. I [If 2-ozs. are mixed with every B pound of ordinary flour, and the Q recipe directions carefully followed, • g with little practice you will bake R §j light, fragrant and well raised tea gj bread, cakes and pastry. I" Paisley Flour" is sold in I 7<i., 3%d. and id. packets, £ o containing many simple but 8 g carefully expressed recipes. £

POET'S CORNER. A PSALM OF CHRIST. (A Sequel to the "Psalm of Life.") Tell me not in cherming phrases, Christ was but a martyred man for such phrases have no basis, And things are not as you plan. Christ was graceful! Christ was truthful! Christ the incarnated God &11 men are, in Adam, sinful, Was not spoken of our Lord. Kofc opinion, and not reason, Shall his God-like life define; 4gut the greatness of His person, Supernatural, Divine. 1alschoou rises truth to banter, As a huge, unsettled wave Strikes the rock, but to surrender And retreat unto the grave. (n the world's unhallowed teaching, Be not faint and weak in heart; 3ta.nd for Christ! the truth go preaching! Play in life your destined part! frust no future hope of living! Brood not o'er man's former state! Live to-day, a Christ-like bein Leave the morrow to its fate. for, to-day has been the morrow, .Vnd to-day shall be the past, VIay it be of joy, not sorrow, Let it "Light" to others cast. 'Light" to lead the 3traying spirit, Guide the heart, the soul, the mind, Of the pilgrim who'd inherit That viiich is for him enshrined. All created, animated, Now beneath Christ's sceptred sway, Let that Christ be duplicated In our lives from day to day. DEWI PEJCAB. 28, Allen-street, Mountain Ash.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. The Road to Love BY MADAME ALBANESI, Author of '"Capricious Caroline," "The Strongest of All Things," "Susannah and One Other," "Love and Louisa," "The Way to Win," etc., etc. COPYRIGHT. CHAPTER XI. Eu[ there were many, many times in the da\s which followed, when Ellen Miiner won- dered ivhether she would have strength and couraga to stand firm to the duties she had so willingly accepted. Varley had promised to run down very soon, but he had not been. He had written Ellen a few lines hoping that she was comfortable, and that if any matter cropped up which she want- ed altered, would she bo so good as to let him know, and it should be at once, attended to. To this she had an.zrta¿,t;. a few words. Dear Mr, Varley,- When you come to Wynch-s, there are many things which I should like to discuss with you. She did not tell him if she were well or com- fortable. She avoided all references to her i position She felt intuitively that he would kIlow far better than she could tell him the difficulties of that position. The first attempt at authority over the servants had not be?n al- together a triumph. W hen they reached the dining room that evening, they had found the butler absent from his work, and the same footman to whom Ellen had given the orders rearing the same untidy look, took the butler's place. This was enough to throw Lady Norchester into one of her wild moments of passion. She dismissed the footman from her presence, but she did it with no regard to dignity. It seem- ed to Ellen that it was impossible for her to step forward and assume too much authority, but she really suffered what was nothing less than a wrangle between Lady Norche3ter and her footman. Eventually one of the mads had waited on them, and they had partaken of a very indifferent dinner. At every turn something new called for an explosive invective from Lady Norchester. Finaliy she had turned to Ellen and said "NoW', you see what goes on here, and I'd like to ask you what would you do if you were me 9" And Ellen bad answered hotly, and yet with hai-iteiir "I should dismiss all these servants." The word spread very quickly to the kitchens that Ellen was a factor to bo counted with. Instantly she became the object of suspicion and dislike. From Crewe indeed she received something like dislike, and on poor Eliza, the housemaid, was visited the wrath of the rest of her fellow servants because she spoke enthusi- astically about the young lady who had come to Wynche. Ellen was not daunted, however, trying as the whole situation became. She frequently ranged herself in front of Lady Norchester, and put forward the whole strength of her influence to work certain dangers out of the poor crea- ture's tife. To start with, she gTappled with the question of stimulants. She had gone right to the poisonous centre of this terrible habit. She traced it to Crcw-e. Indeed she could not stop Eliza ohattering. and from this source the learnt that it was the maid's habit to encour- age her mistress to drink brandy under the piea, that she needed it for her health. Ellen was resolved that this should stop im- mediately. She went to work frankly. A few days had sufficed to show her that among the good qualities which Miriam possessed was one of loyalty. Evidently her mother had been the greaf love and the great loss of her life before her marriage: and she clung to the tnemory of that mother in a way that was path- etic then Ellen was convinced that she had the Ftrongest desire to be loyal about her husband. Once she had declared. "I have never eared much for anvbody: but when I do care I do care; and I'd do anything In the world for anybody I love." "1 hope you are going to earn for me," Ellen had answered to this. "I should value your friendship more than I can possibly tell you." "Why, of coursa, I care for vou," Lady Nor- chester had answered. "I told you that the fipst night you came, didn't I? You've got to Jet me do something to show you how much I do care." 'I was just going to ask you to do some- thing," Ellen answered; and then she spoke out what she had on her mind. Miriam's face had flushed a littlo uncomfort- ably. "r only take brandy when I feel faint," she Enid. "But you mustn't feel faint," was Ellen's reply. "I am going to induce you to go out more. I am sure you don't realiso how beauti- ful your own possessions are. I went for a Ion,; walk in tha gardens this morning before breakfast, and I wished all the timo you had been with me." Miriam, however, was very difficult to net out of the house. On one occasion after Ellen had been there some littlo while, she did sug- 'g-est they should go for a long drive; but the result was not satisfactory. Although they met very few people, those whom they did meet

B Ready cooked j Porridge. I Grape^Nuts I 1 served with cream 1 lor milk (hot or cold). 1 (

FOR THE YOUNG FOLKS, THE TWO FRIENDS. My dog and I are faithful friends, We run and play together; We tramp across the hills and fields, Through all the pleasant weather. And when from school with eager haste I come along the street, He hurries on with bounding step My glad return to greet. Then see him frisk along the road, All eager for a race; He wags his tail, he bounds and Ijarks, He tries to kiss my face. Oh, if he could but speak like me, Just for a single day, How dearly should I love to hear The funny things he'd say. Yet, though he only says "Bow-wow! And cannot read or spell, He learns some lessons like a child, And learns them very well. I taught him how to stand upright, And how to bow his head, And how to lie all stiff and stark, Pretending he is dead. I taught him how to hold a gun, And how to wait at table; I dressed his nose with spectacles (I borrowed them from Mabel.) I lose my hat, my top. my ball, And send old Turk to find them; I leavo my clothes upon the bank When bathing—he will mind them. His eye is quick, his scent is keen, He tracks me through the wood. I whistle; he comes tearing up, As all good doggies should. I hide among the leafy trees, He finds me in a. trice, And then I give him sugar-plums; He yelps—that means. "How nice." Ah, he and I are chums indeed, He loves me like a brother. We never quarrel, do we. Turk? We understand each other. Come here, old fellow, while I read What other dogs can do; And if I live when you are gone, I'll write your story, too. THE ROBIN'S STORY. I buiit me a nest On the great beech-tree— As pretty a nest As ever could be. I wove it with threads To the beech-tree bough, And three little birdies Are sleeping there now. One day, as I sang My "cheery-chee-chee," A smart little squirrel Sprang into the tree. I thought he was coming Right up on the bough; It makes my heart tremble To think of it now. I swooped on the squirrel, Straight down through the air And soon sent him running. He could not toll where. I pecked him and peeked him, And flew in his track; He'll stop to think twice Before bQ cornea back.

FOR MATRON AND MAID. ¡ HABITS THAT IRRITATE. There is one habit that the overworked house- wife should bo on her guard to check. Bite your tongue, if need be, whistle, sing, do any- thing to stop talking just as soon as you note that <=> you are making swift strides toward the habit of nagging. 1 For so sure as you give this vicious habit ho very least bit of an inch it will take an ell. fore you really think of the matter. there you are "Why didn't you do this in place of t-hat ?" or "You never can do anything right." Then you begin laying miles and furlongs and rods by the inch toward the deep sea of domestic unhappiness. Your children will learn to deceive you, be- cause they cannot stand being found faub with so much. Your husband may find that e too can form the habit of finding fault with your management. And where will then le any chance of a home, in the real sense of the WOIU, when these conditions exist? TRUTHFULNESS. A good father's love and understanding has been the force that has shaped many a child's life for noble ends, and he should accept his responsibilities as the greatest opportune y life has offered him for influence, power and suc- cess. One of the principal duties of a parent to a child is the duty of absolute truthfulness. No father or mother, under whatever circum- stances, can ever find justification for the slightest deviation from this rule. To promise a believing little child something impossible of fulfilment is absolutely wrong. To exaggerate, state falsely, unduly emphasise, speak deliberately what is not true, for what- r ever ends, are faults that may destroy the char- acter of the child, wholly innocent as he is by nature of deception. THE HOME ATMOSPHERE. Every home has a decided "atmosphere" (the sweet flower of environment) and our intuition is as likely to letf us know, as soon as we enter it. the principal: characteristics of the family life. In studying the ideal home, that homo which presents the best kind of environment, the first thing to be conscious of, probably before all else, is that the place be a place of rest. It must be "livable." It must be peaceful. THE WISHING MOON. 0 golden crescent gleaming bright Upon the sombre breast of night, A promise of the things to be Throughout tho month of destiny. I see you waxing strong each day, While sullen tides your will obey, And pile themselves in frantic flow Or back recede in ebbing slow. o new moon on the breast of night Keep faith with me as grows your light, And as you're followed by the sea So let my true love come to me. FOR SUMMER SEWING. A clever woman has found tnat when sho makes buttonholes in soft muslins it is a very good idea to rub a little paste, made of flour and water; on the wrong side. This will give a firm surface to work upon, and obviates the possibility of cutting a button-hole too lar^e. Of course, the paste will not discolour the fabric. TO SAVE THE SLIPPERS For the very fine slipper, whose softness needs little more than the old-time stuffing- of crum- pled tissue paper, there is a home-made spreader that will save the price of a shoe-tree. Take a pair of long, covered steels, those that come for boning corsets. Cover them with puffed ribbon or silk, and stick one end of each into a tight ball of cotton, also covered with gathered ribbon or silk. This ball should be big enough to fill the vamp of the slipper, and should be securely sewed to the steel. Finally, it is to be placed in the slipper's toe, after which the other end of the steel is sprung into the heel. FRILLS OF FASHION. Endeavours are being made to bring brocade? f into fashion. Novelties in table linen show round table- cloths. Gathered gauze and gathered satin are both being used extensively for millinery. Many of the thinnest summer materials have a satiny sheen. Embroidered chantilly lace is made up into 1 guimpes and sleeves. White cotton dress materials are sprinkled with dots. The hand-embroidered linen sunshade will I figure in many a wardrobe. Appliqued roseleaves ornament the more elaborate shades. Many long coats have buckles instead of but- tons. If the cloak is arranged to fasten on one side, the buckle is large and barbaric. Polonaise gowns are often finished on the should, rs with little buckles. One new style of guimpe is of fine spotted net two or three tones lighter than the gown. Hugo hats to match the guimpes of gowns help to make up some extremely smart toilete. Curiously toned pink flowers are mixed with the delicate spring greens for millinery pur- poses. i HINTS FOR THE HOME. I A little ground almonds mixed through a fruit cake will prevent the fruit from sinking to the bottom. Orange peel dried and grated makes a very fine yellow powder that is delicious flavouring for cakes and puddings. Soorched Goods.—Saturate scorched part in milk, and then spread thickly with salt. Leave for an hour or so and then wash off in cold water. The half of a spanish onion rubbed well into damaged part also removes scorch. Corks as Knobs.—When knobs from cooking utensils are broken or have been lost, replace them with cork by putting a screw through from inside, letting it come up close and tight. Screw a cork on outside. The corks will not loosen. Fig Pudding (from recipe by a celebrated chef) .-20z. butter, 2oz. sugar, two eggs, ilb. chopped figs, loz. breadcrumbs, loz. flour, juice of a lemon. Cream up butter and sugar, add eggs slowly, cream again until quite smooth, then add all other ingredients, and stir lightly together. Steam in buttered mould one hour. Pic-nic tartlets are popular, and easily made. Beat an egg with 2oz. of castor sugar to a cream, flavour with orange-flower water and a little nutmeg. Old 3oz. of fresh butter, and whisk it into the mixture. Line tins with puff paste, fill them with the mixture, place a pre- served cherry on each and bake in a, moderate oven. To prevent large buttons pulling material of a coat place a small flat button exactly under- neath on the inside, and firmly sew the two to- gether. The button will then stay on as long as the coat is worn. This saves much trouble in preventing buttops from becoming loose, and perhaps lost, besides pulling holes in material, as they are likely to when sewn on in the or- dinary way. Powdered brick dust and paraffin is an excel- lent braes polish. Take half-pint of powdered brick dust to three-quarters of a pint of para- ffin -1 mix together in a bottle. Shake well be- fore using, apply with soft flannel, and polish. Also whiting and paraffin are very good. For very fine brass use crocus powder and turps; about same quantity of each, mixed together and used in the usual way. To clean straw matting take a dish half full of hot water, a perfectly clean, long-handled mop, and some dry Indian meal. Sweep all the dust off the matting, then scatter the dry meal evenly over the room, wring the mop very dry. and rub hard. Take one breadth at a time, always lengthwise, of the straw. Use clean hot water for each breadth. When quite dry the meal can be swept off easily. Tongue au Gratin.-Take the remains of a boiled tongue, when it is too shabby to come to table, and cut them in small pieces, remov- ing the skin. Havo two or three boiled eggs, according to the quantity of tongue; butter a fireproof dish, sprinklo it with breadcrumbs, and put in the tongue and hard-boiled eggs in slices. Scatter grated cheese over, continue until full, pour in a little stock and lastly cover with bread-crumbs, with a few bits of butter on the top. Bake till brown, then serve.

) SO many J/ I < perils lurk v < behind a cut that keeping handy a box of that great antiseptic healer, Zam-Buk, m I is a wise and necessary precaution. |p | There is nothing like Zam-Buk for gp soothing, purifying, and healing • wound. The unique composition and herbal origin of Zam-Buk, and its great reliability have ^won for it a place in most hoBseholds. Has Zam-Buk A place in your's? l :0- ||| i'L- J.-ul' Imn upa zhsid in Ae iyiv st&fawjd ¡- 'j jr f i !i.——)m!.f Don't Fepget f & That Hudson's Soap was first In the field and is still first to* | day. Clothes washed with it are j: first out on the line. They look nice, smell sweet, tell tales-not » out of school, nor of hard work > and worry-but of easy times, pleasant work, Happy Wash Days, Elva SOIR, s Soap j For lyashins ud the DIshes-For Clewing down the MotfC* IN PACKETS EVERYWHERE. H 12 THOMAS DA VIES, POSTING MASTER AND CAB PROPRIETOR 1 N thanking the public for the liberal patronage received from them for many years past he being in succession to his father, the oldest established Cab Proprietor in Mer- thyr—begs to invite special attention to his large and complete facilities for Posting, and in particular to his ample arrangements for Funerals, lie has recently added to his stock of hearses a new handsome Glass Panelled Hearse, and is now prepared to snnply hearses for iunerals from 103. upwards. ■« oujjy.jr. Arrangements can bo made with parties at a distance either by letter or by personally, waiting upon them. Wedding Carriages kept. Brakes for oleasure parties upon tho most reasonable terms. w ADDRESSES.- CASTLE HOTEL LIVERY STABLES, AND BUSH HOTELLIVERY STABLES Merthyr Tydfil. JSF ■ V j You will never be J short of anything I you want for your ¡ cakes or puddings i if you keep a packet ) or two of I' (Sfceoma in the store cup- board. # There are no nicer cakes or pud- dings than those made with Cakeoma-the ready-for-use cake and pudding flour. Many recipes in each 3td. packet. From grocers and stores every- where. w I LATHAM & CO. LTD., LIVERPOOL. w CAKEOMA PUZZLES. A Booklet containing the 12 Cakeoma Puzzles and solutions, with names and addresses of Cash Prize Winners. will be sent post free to anyone on re- ceipt of request and an empty Cakeoma, Spoogeoraa, or Oraa Self* Raising Flour ba^. i OAU- t I I (Silk) <?> I RIGHT ACROSS THE BACK. I I f II NURSE JAM ES'S PILLS TAKE THEI PAIN OUT, | And Cure Debility, B Nervousness, 1 Anaemia, Hysteria, Headache, Constipation, B and Female Ailments. Take no Imitations. 5 l/lo, 2/9 and 4/6 per box, post free. | To be obtained only I Anaemia, Hysteria, Headache, Constipation, B and Female Ailments. Take no Imitations. 5 l/lo, 2/9 and 4/6 per box, post free. | To be obtained only I From HENRY M. LLOYD, CHEMIST, MERTHYR. ] 0 ) I HAVE A TERRIBLE HEADACHE AND AM SO BILIOUS AND SICK THAT I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. There are thousands of Men and Women of all ages suffering so, making Life a burden. It it was known how effective HUGHES'S BLOOD PILLS are. no one would delay a moment before taking them. These Pills act like a charm, and give immediate relief in the most severe attacks 01 HEADACHES, BILIOUSNESS, INDIGES* TION, DEPRESSION OF SPIRITS, IRRITA. BILITY. By acting on the Blood as they do, they remove the cause of Inactivity of the Livel and Kidneys, and cure BACKACHE, CON. STIPATION, WIND, PILES, and all SKIN RASH. Read a few extracts from letters re. caived:— I cannot speak too highly of your "Hughes's Blood. Pill They cured me of a severe Sick Headache, Biliousness, and Foul Stomach in a very short time.—C. James, Wigan. I have been in a very weak state for months; severe pains in the Kidneys, Rheumatic pain in aJI my limbs, Headache, and Foul Stomach, with Wind and Indiges- tion, due no doubt to Bad Blood poisoning my whole system. Your Hughes's Blood Pills,* cured me in a very short time.—W. Jonea, Pembroke Terrace, Pontypool. I have been a great sufferer from Pain in the Head and Back, with Wind and Indi- gestion. I was induced to try Blood Pille. They did me an extraordinary amount of good. Now I am quite well.—Sarah Phil. lips. Elm Street, Ferndale. These Pills always do good, When buying see that this TRADE MARK. a Heart, —thus—is on each box, with. out which none is genuine. ASK for I Hughes's Blood Pills,' and take no Substitute. Sold by Chemists and III m Stores at Is. ld., 2. 9d.. 4s. 6d., or send valoa in P.O. or Stamps to Maker JACOB HUGHES. M.P.S., L.D.S., -lanufac.turin* Chemist. PENARTH CARDIFF.

FUN AND FANCY. "When she hit him with a golf ball, did it knock him senseless?"— guess SQ. I under stand they are soon to marry." "Binks is weak, financially, isn't he?"—"He hasn't much money, but he gives employment to a great many men."—"Who are they?"— "Other people's bill collectors." "Can you tell me what steam asked the examiner.—"Why, sure, sir," replied Patrick, confidently, "steam is—why—er—-it's wather thot's gone crazy wid the heat." "Father," said little Rollo, "what is meant by 'a Sabbath day's am afraid, my son, that in too many cases it means twice round the golf links." "Professor," said a senior, trying to be pathetic at parting, "I am indebted to you for all I know."—"Pray don't mention such a trifle!" was the reply. Anxious Patron: "Doctor, don't you think you'd better call in some other physicians for consultation?"—Family Doctor (cheerfully): "Oh, no, not yet. There is still fome hope." Ilyker: "I attended a successful sleight-of hand performance last night."—Pyker "So?" —Hyker • "Yes. I lent a conjurer a counter- feit dollar, and he gave me back a ocd one." The Minister: "Then you don't think I practise what I preach, eh?"—The Deacon: "No, sir, I don't. You've been preachin' on the subjec' of resignation fur twa years, an' ye hi vna resigned yit." Little Boy "Mummy, dear, why can't I stay up till it gets late ?"—Mother: "That wouldn't do at all, dear. You'd wake up to in the morning."—Little Boy (thoughtfully): "Does dad go to bed very late, mummy?" Smith "Did you tell your wife you wouldn't be home till — Robinson (carelessly): "Certainly."—"You did?" — "Yes, I should think -o."—"And what did she say?"—"Well, as soon as I told her I rang off the telephone.' Mrs. Gabb: "Are you going to have your darter take music lessons ?"—Mrs. Gadd: "N -0. I guess not. She hain't no oar for music. Mrs. Gabb: "Well. I would'nt be discouraged at that: mebby she might learn to play classic, anyhow." Resident: "Looking for board, eh? Well, I know an excellent placo, kept by a regular old-fa-shioned Now England housewife."— Stranger: the fact is, I jist came from Yankeeland, a.nd jist for the novelty of the thin, I'd rather get board with folks that a.in't Yankees."—Resident: "There are plenty of that sort."—Stranger: "Yes: I saw 'em advertised. I knew they wasn't Yankees they always ended up with 'No questions asked.' An En"lis.h gentleman went to Killin for a week's ashing on Loch Tay He was very un- lucky, having got nothing for the first five days. Of course, his hotel bill and the fact that he had a boatman to pay made his fishing rather expensive. On the last day, however, ho killed a nice salmon. "Hanv.sh," said the gentleman to the boatman, "do you know that fish has cost me about £20?" (alluding to the expense).—"A weel, sir," quoth Hamish, a things are mixed wi' mercy; it's a Heaven's, blessing ye didna catch any mair." The Rev Dr.——had no sooner finished the third sent-ance of his sermon than an old gen- tleman beneath the pulpit growled "That's Sherlock!" A little later in the discourse he growled. "That's Tillotson!" Later still he grunted, yet more emphatically, "That's Blair 1" The plagiarist preacher, unable to stand this detection any longer, leaned over the pulpit and cried: "Fellow! If you do not hold rour impertinent tongue I shall have you turned out of the church for brawling! "That's his own!" commented the old gentle- man imperturbably."—"T. P.'s Weekly." A gentleman of indolent habits made a busi- ness of visiting his friends extensively. He was once cordially received by a Quaker, who treat- ed his visitor with great attention and polite- ness for several days. At last he said "My friend, I am afraid thee will never visit me again."—"Oh, yes, I shall," said the visitor; "I have enjoyed my visit much I shall certain- ly come again."—"Nav," said the Quaker. L think thee will not visit me again."—"What makes vou think I shall not come again ?' ask- ed the Visitor. "If thee does never leave." sa.:d the Quaker. "how can'st thee come again?' An excursion train started one Saturday one of the principal towns in the Midland Counties for the soene of an important football match. This train, as is sometimes the case with excursions, went very slowiv, and had numerous stoppages. After a time the excur- sionists reached a station called March, and wero brought to a stand there. While they were waiting, an official was strutting un and down the platform, calling out: "Marc.i! March A passenger who was a bit of a wag, put his head out. and said to the official: "What is it old chap?"—"March." said the official.— "Ah", well, it may be March now. but it was o;««iojjiber when we started. —

were very objectionable to Lady Norchester. In this, however, Eilen saw once again strong evidence of a, proud spirit which if it could only be properly encouraged would have been the most valuable assistance to her. Lady Norchester resented the way in which she wa" looked at. "They all know me by this time," she said. "What do they want to stare for?" "1 don't think any rudeness was intended," Ellen made haate to answer, "but you must be naturally an object of interest and importance round here." "Importance!" said Miriam Norchester. "Ob! I've got a lot of importance, haven't Ii Now you've been here long enough just to see how I'm treated. But I suppose you are go- ing to say 'that is your own fault,' aren't you?" And with a smile Ellen answered her: because it is your own fault." no one can say you don't speak your mind." W When the carriage stopped in front of the entrance again Lady Norchester got out with alacrity. You won't catch me going for another drive again in a hurry," she said. "If people want to be amused they can stare at somebody else. I am sure there are lots of old frumps round about here." That very day Richard Varley paid an unan- nounced visit to Wynche. Ellen was walking in the grounds when she saw the car arrive in which he was sitting. Acting on impulse, she very nearly waved to him to stop; but. on second thoughts she roal- ised that perhaps this would be a harmful action. She was particularly anxious that Lady Norchester should not suppose that there was any understanding between "Varley a.nd herself; and if Miriam were to look out from her win- dows and see them in conversation, all the little good that she had dono (and she felt that she had done some good, might be lost; so though it was a little sacrifice to her. she dTew on one side, and the car swept up the avenue. She purposely lengthened her walk, a.nd when she reached the house she found Varley waiting for her a little impatiently. Hi" first glance at I her was satisfactory. "You look well." he exclaimed. And with a little laugh, Ellen declared that She was well. "It is such beautiful air heTo, and the coun- try is so lovely." "Miriam is commg down directly." f-aid Var- ley. as he led the way into the library: then he I. added a little abruptly, "I knew you would not fail." "I am afraid," said Ellen "in the same low voice. "1 have not been able to do very much hut oh! I am so anxious to be of some real use." "Well, if it j" any satisfaction to you. I will toll you that I have nver been received so pleasantly by Lady Norchester as on this occa- sion. Now can you tell me a little bit about things." "I am afraid the servants don't like ma," Ellen said, and she coloured hotly. "I cannot tell you what I suffered the first, two or three days I was ho-re. It seemed to me so horrible, so shocking that. Lady Norchester should be sur- rounded by such people. I hope you won't. think it impertinent of me, Mr. Varley. but I r3.n do think that the whole of the household should be changed, starting with Crewe." "You find her unsatisfactory?" Varley spoke half dubiously. "I find her in the highest degree objection- able. She is a woman with a certain amount of coarse strong character, and she has b?en doing prettv nearly what she liked with Lady Norchester." Richard Varlev looked thoughtful. "She came here," he said, "with the very oo-t credentials. I interviewed her myself just a little while before you arrived. I must con- fess that she favourably impressed me." "I daresay she knows how to plav her part." Eilcn --aid. "but believe me, I am right. Crewe ig the very wo-rst influence Lady Norchooter could have about her." Then the girl hesitated; she had a natural, delicate repugnance to speak to Varley about that one terrible habit which she was trying so earnestly to combat, but she realised that she was not in this place to play at truths, and so she told him about the brandy drinking, and the pernicious way in which Crewe was wording against Lady Norchester's health and mind. Richard Varley was shocked, in truth, al- though there had been times when Miriam's oxcitament and her reckless passion might have roused suspicion in his mind, he had never reallv credited her with so terrible a fault as this." "What vou tell me, he said to kllen, "is shocking and very serious. Of course, Crewe must be sent away, we must find a different sort of woman altogether; "and then he looked at Ellen with troubled eyes. "I he said, involuntarily, "I wonder if I have done right in bringing you here?" She smiled back at him. "Indeed I am still more than grateful to you! It is a great thing to have some very big object in one's life, and it is very beautiful to feel that someone puts confidence in me. Brides," Ellen added. "I really like Lady Nor- chester; she has a great many faults, but they are all on tha surface. I am sure she has a good heart, but she re very, very unhappy; and it is because of this that she does so many things that I feel are not natural to her. Mr. Varley." Ellen spoke impulsively, "I do. h we could do something definitely for heo,?ve Is there no chance of Lord Norchester s Tno^oei being kind to her? Please understand he has not said a single word to me, but I know that the fact that her husband's family will have nothing to do with her is eating into her heart. We were talking the other day about Lady Evelyn, and do you know that she must have loved Lady Evelyn in the old days before she came here." "She did love Evelyn, Varlev said, and to ba-frank with you, Miss Miiner, it has always been a source of the greatest regret to me that Lady Norchester, the elder, refused eo abso- lutely to let her daughter and Miriam meet. Of course, you must realise that this marriage was a terrible blow to Harry's mother, and that in those first days she was eo carried away by her anger that many fatal mistakes were made. Moreover, Evelyn was only a little schoolgirl then, and perhaps it was natural that her mother should stand between her and any friendship with Harry's wife." "Perhaps," said Ellen, but she spoke dub- iously, and there was colour in her cheeks as she added: "Of course, I quite understand that Lady Norchester was very angry; but at the same time I am afraid that she must have been very oruel. She knew all about her son's wife, and I take it there was no reason that Lady Evelvn should not have been permitted to come here before. Lady Norcbaster's only crime is, apparently, her lack of birth and money. I am seeing her at her very worst, and yet I trace evidence of splendid qualities in her. Certain- ly her beauty is exceptional." Varlev walked to and fro for a littlo while in deep thought, and then he said: "I was rather prepared for all this, although to tell you the truth, Miss Miiner, you a.re so young that it might have been quite possible for the deeper points of the situation to have escaped your notice. The difficulty is to know exactly what to do. I am weary of arguing with Harry's mother! Evelyn is another mat- ter. She would have come here to-morrow if she were free to do so. She always adored her brother. and she is very young and gentlo and sweet-natured, and I know it hurts her to have to fall in with her mother's views; but Lady Evelvn cannot coma here without her mother s pprmi-sion—and that I am afraid we shall never get. As a matter of fact, we are now close to the anniversary of the late Lord Norchester s death; each year his widow and Lady Evelyn come down here to attend a memorial service at the church. They have not hitherto stayed longer than a few hours, but I believe it is their intention to remain for a few days this time. They will put up at an hotel in Tom. bury. and drive to the village." Ellen's heart gave a leap. "Dear Mr. Varley," she said eagerly, "ii only you could persuade them to come here!" "The thing is impossible," Varley said, de- cisively. "And yet," he paused, and his next words brought a flush of colour to Elkn's cheeks, "and yet your presence here makes a vast difference! I took an early opportunity of informing Harry's mother of Lady Ncrchee- ter's desire to have someone with her. not merely as a companion, but M an instructress. I know that she was impressed, and that more particularly because she knew your father. Miss Miiner, and it seems that she knew you also when you were a little girl. Of course, she would not give me the satisfaction of telling me that she approved of this arrangement, but I am convinced, as I såid just now, that she is impressed. To make her attitude more com- prehensible to you, I think it only fair that I should tell you that Miriam's own conduct since her marriage has been the most fatal element against her. Now that you have been here and that you know her eo intimately, you will un- derstand this." "Yes, I do understand, but we must change all this, Mr Varley, we must begin at the verv beginning, and our first move must be to send away these servants who have been hero far too long." I Varley smiled at her ea.rnestne. "Well," he said, "you shall make out a list of those against whom you have a very black mark. and I will see that they are dismissed." Ellen sat down immediately at the writing table, and made a list of the names. As she gave him the paper, she said: "What I feel so keenly is that our first duty to Lady Norchester is to encourage her to up hold her own dignity This is the argument that I have had with her almost every day. No matter how much she suffers or what bitter- ness she has in her own heart, she mu"t re- member she is Lord Norchester's wife and mis- tress of this house. And all these people," Ellen said, tapping the paper, "neither rocog- nhe hr as their mistress nor Tender her the resrjpbt that is due to her as the wife of the Earl of Norchester." She broke off with a lit- tie laugh. "It sounds as if I were preaching to you," she said, "but oh I do feel 80 keenly about the position of this poor creature." "I see you have practically lost your heart to her," said Richard Varley. Ellon shook her head. I am afraid that. is not quite the truth; there is so much about her to make it impos- sible for me to love hor really, but I am awfully sorry for her. and she is so unhappy, so deserted, I must help W Varlev looked at her with almost ft tender "xnrest'on in his eyes, and a faint &mile on his lip*. -°- "=-=: --=. "It is strange to me to hear you speak as you are speaking now," he said. "Whén I think of you, it is always as a little girl flying across the country riding your pony with a courage and ea I have never seen equalled. He regretted his words the moment they were spoken, for Ellen's face flushed and then grew pale, and there were tears in her eyes as she answered: "I am doing my bast to forget all that used to be so sweet in life. Sometimes here in the country the longing for my father to be giver] back to me is greater than I can tell you So you see," she added, "how glad I am to have my mind occupied, and to feel that there is responsiblity in my life, and duty to be done." She caught her breath in a kind of sigh, and then said softly: "I know I am not very old, but I feel years older than Lady Norchester. Sometimes she needs as much care and guid- ance as a little child. Now you are going up to see her, are you not?" "I shall go up again in a little while, but I want to interview these servants first. I sup pose they will have to stay for a little while." Ellen was thoughtful for an instant, and then said "Well, I don't believe we should be more uncomfortable without servants than we have been with these But, of course, I cannot ex- pect you to do everything I want," she added. "Can't sa.id Richard Varley; he smiled for an instant into her eyes. They had walked into the great hall together and parted now; he stood and watched Ellen as she mounted the staircase, and was conscious of a sense of great regret ns she passed out of his sight. But their meeting this time had relieved his mind to a certain extent, because in pondering over the situation (as he hAd done practically every day), he had had a return of those qualms of conscience, and doubted whether he had done a wise thing for Ellen in Rending her to Wynche. Her own quiet view of tilings was satisfactory; nevertheless, though she was so wise and carrid herself wIth o much dig- nity, she was aftar all very young; and there was much with which she had to mingle just now which was trying in the extreme for one like herself. The next hour was a busy one. after that he went upstairs again, and asked Lady Norcbss- tcr to ?ee him. "I hope that you won't think that I have been presuming too much," he said; "but I have found it necessary to take very strong steps downstairs. With your sanction I propose that you should change all these servants." He gave her the list which Ellen had written down.. Miriam looked at it for a moment in silence, her face had rather p. sullen expression. "You are doinar this, I suppose," she said, "because Miss Miiner has asked you to do it, not because you care how the servants treat me?" The colour rose a little in his face, since there more than an element of truth in this re- ma. "You are quite ricrht," he said. "It is Miss Milner who has told me of the condition of affairs, and I must frankly confess I am very much obliged to her, because as you can readily understand it would be impossible for me to know such matters unless they were brought to my notice." "And yet you used to come hero often enough!" The sullen look remained on Miri- am's face; she was in one of her most äffi- euh moods. "Harry '11 be annoyed if these vnen are sent away," she said. "He never found no fault with them." "Harry is not hero just now." Varley an- swered as pleasantly as he could, "and in his absence I want to be as useful as I can. But naturally." he added, quickly, "I shall do nothing that is not pleasing to Lady Norchester interrupted him by flicking the piece of paper away from him. "Oh!" she said, "I don't care, let them go, or let them stay. I don't suppose the new ones when they come in will be any better. When they've been here a week or two they'll treat me just the same as the rest." v A sense of hopelessness pressed on Varley, and though he sat and tried to chat with her she was so difficult, so disagreeable, that he took his leave much sooner than ho had in- tended. He hoped to have seen Ellen again, but she was not downstairs, and he preferred not to inquire for her. There was a subdued note about the butler and footmen as they stood about in the hall when Varley took his departure Their dis- missal was not wholly unexpected, since the word had gone round that Miss Milner was against them, but it was depressing, for life at Wynche had many pleasant features to com- mend it to a pampered and idle servant* Varley left a little note for Ellen, in which he briefly told her that he had carried out her wishes, and impressed upon her to be sure and write to him if any sort of new difficulty should arise. "I will get you new people with all the speed possible. I forgot to ask you if there had been any news from Harry at Wynche. I have only had one telegram since he left England." This little sentence was written in on the impulse, for it suddenly flashed through Var- ley's mind that he would be very delighted to have a letter from Ellen. He was anxious above all to let the girl realiso that she was not alone, that he was working with her, and only too ready to share the responsibilities and the difficulties; and as he motored away from Wynche and then paced the platform waiting for the London train, it was astonishing the amount of pleasure which Richard Varley drew from the same thought of this union >in thought and sympathy with Ellen Milner. The days following on this visit of Varley were none too happy for Ellen. Lady Norches- ter seemed to have adopted a curiously resent- ful attitude towards the rirl. She was always sullen, and refused to converse. This did not trouble Ellen, however, half so much as the fact that Crewe had not gone away. The rest of the servants had taken their departure ac- cording to Varley's arrangements, but at the last moment Lady Norchester changed matters as far as Crewe was concerned. In fact mis- tress and maid seemed to have drifted into a deeper kind of intimacy, a condition of affairs which made Ellen both anxious and uncomfort- able. She said nothing, howaver, at first, nei- ther did sho make any mention of this when she wrote to Varley. Sho was beginning to know Miriam a little better; and she felt quite convinced that silence on her part would ex- pedite the change that was almost sure to come. She tried to fill these days with working a little on her own account, with reading and walking. She had begun to make her way to the village, and once she had walked to Torn- bury, the nearest town. As Varley. never touched on the subject, Ellen felt that his man- oeuvres with regard to bringing Lord Nor- chester's mother and wife together (or at least his sister and wife) had failed once again. The day of the memorial service came, but Miriam made no comment on it. and Ellen hoped devoutly that it was a matter which had passed out of her memory. Her mood remained much the same, she was certainly a very try- ing person to handle; although the old ser- vants had gone and the new servants had come in their place, Lady Norchester refused to take this opportunity of demonstrating her wishes and her authority. She had her meals in her room constantly, and always found some pre- text for sending Ellen away. It was impossible for the girl not to get a little depressed and un- happy although Crewe was conducting her- self so differently, and was acting with caution, Ellen was convinced that she was working against her. One afternoon she was sitting trying to write in her room. Eliza brought in a letter, to which she said there was an answer requested. Ellen looked at the handwriting on the en- velopes for some little time with a puzzled ex- pression, and then read the letter. Her surprise was as great as her annoyance. It was a letter from her cousin, Walter Bar- noith, brought by himself; he requested to see her on a matter of great importance. No- thiog could have been more unwelcome. So long did Ellen pause that Eliza looked at her in some surprise. "Shall I take an answer, miss?" she asked. Ellen said, "Yes," at first, and then she hesitated again and said, "No. I will see this gentleman." For it occurred to her suddenly that Barneith was of a persistent disposition and might give her even greater annoyance if she refused to see him. She could not under- stand how he had discovered where she was; as to why he had come, that did not trouble her, she was convinced that curiosity and a firm resolve to refuse to be put out of her life was the only reon for his coming. But she went downstairs very reluctantly. If it had been cither of her girl cousins the matter would have worn a different complexion; but she had something like real contempt tor her aunt's son, he was the class of man whom she natur- ally disliked, and with whom she would never have anything in common. Ho was a hypo- crite and a spendthrift. Idolised by his mo- ther, he treated that mother in a manner which Ellen had stigmatised to herself as shameful. Very grudgingly she went to him. The butler had shown him into the library, and he was walking round making himself quite at homo when Ellen opened the door "Well, you know how to do yourself well," was his greeting; then, as Ellen closed the door and stood for an instant without saying a word, he added "Aren't you going to say 'how do you do?' You might give me the satisfac- tion of saying you are pleased to see me, after I have had such a fine bother to find you." Very quietly Ellen said: "I am not pleased to see you, Walter, and I do not understand why you have come. I have not the slightest desire to see any one of you again." Walter Barneith laughed. He was not a bad- looking man, but there was something smug and rather common about him. He had a jaunty air and a fatuous kind of laugh which always had jarred on Ellen. "Oh We know quite well that you think yourself a lot too good for us," he said, "but after all, my dear Ellen, we're the same you know, we're cousins." "Why have you come?' asked Ellen, coldly. Ho laughed again. "To see you and to see this place, and to ask you to do something for me. There was a fine how-do-you-do, I can tell you, when you ran away. Mother took to her bed for soino days. She thinks you've treated us very badly. I'm not going to say whether you did or not, but I do know that you were jolly sensible not to stay in that pokey, dreary littlo house of ours, when you had the chance of coming to a house like this." He broke off, and then said. ".1. say, can't you offer a fellow any refreshment? I walked up from the station and that's hot work, you know." "I have no authority to offer you anything." Ellon said coldly. "I am here merely as a companion to Lady Norchester." v "Companwn, is it?" Barneith said, with his irritating lauph. I suppose a companion can give a cup of tea to hor cousiu if she wants to, He sat down, but Ellen still remained stand- ing. "Let us be quite frank with one another," she said in that same quiet way. "I have not the lea-st desire to see you. I am very much annoyed that you have come, and I beg that you will go away at onoa." (To be continued.)