Abergavenny Chronicle

I BE ROBUST! 6 Marshall your bodily forces so that I you live a really healthy, hearty, f\ happy ute Z Health is primarily an f affair of the digestive system. No one A r' can be really robust whose digestive T orgautzatibn is unequal to its task of m providing due nourishment for the V body. Ensure efficiency in the diC. I estive system by the judicious use of i PUS i that old and well-tested stomachic A f and liver corrective. Beecham's Pills f i should always be taker* wlven bilious- 4 ness, headache, poor appetite, flatu. y V lence, pain after eating, constipation, J i and evident lack of nervous enerKl. i f begin to interfere with the work and f i enjoyment of Hfe. Anyone who in i conscious of a ?atUnc-off in general T m healtb wlU do well to take Beecham's i Ptils The difference this medieine mak?s is remarkable, the appetite f i. speedily Improves. the eyes grow i f brighter, sleep is more refreshing, f J in fact there Is a speedy all-round 1 f Improvement In health and spirits. i Be robust I Beecham's PiUs m WILL HELP YOU Pre?Mre? <Mt? 6y x  St. Ife/e. lAIK. f J T?OjM?S BEECH AH. St. ?e?M. Lam. f I SoM ??ry?Ae?e r • ia bMM, ?A?<? ?*-?J M? a.-H. i

 THINGS THOUGHTFUL I I WORTH NOTICING. I The difference between keeping your mini full of business and your business full of mind is worth noticing. I CONSEQUENCES. Things arc what they are; the coosct quences of them will be what they will be 'Yhv. then, should we desire to be deceived —Bishop Butler. I A MAN S RELIGION. It is well said, in every sense, that a man's religion is the chief fact about him A man's or a nation of men's. By religion I do not mean here the Church creed which he professes, the articles of faith which he will sign, and in words or otherwise, assert; not this wholly, in many cases not this at all. We see men of all kinds of professed creeds attain to almost all degrees of worth or worthlessness under each or any of them. This is not what I call religion, this profes- sion and assertion; which is often only a profession and assertion from the outworks of the man, from the mere argumentative region of him, if even so deep as that. I THE PRIMARY THING. But the thing a man does practically believe (and this is often enough without asserting it even to himself, much less to others), the thing a man does practically lay to heart, and know for certain, concerning his vital relations to his mysterious universe, and his duty and destiny there, that is in all case.s the primary thing for him, and crea- tively determines ail the rest.—Carlyle. HAPPINESS MAKERS. Blep--k-d are the happiness makers; bicssec are they who know how to shine on one'e gloom with their cbeer.-Henrv Ward Beecher. INVITED GUESTS. A crowd of troubles passed him by As he with courage waited. He said, "Where do you Troubles fly When you are thus belatod?" "We go," they said, "to those who mope, Who look on life dejected. Who weakly say good-bye to hope- We go where we're expected." THE GREAT MEN. The thoroughly great men are those who have done everything thoroughly, and who have never despised anvthing, howewer small, of God's making.Jolm Ruskin. MYSTERIES AND ASSURANCES. Life is full of mysteries, but it is also full of blessed assurances. We need not dwell in the land of questions and shadows, when so many things are clear and plain. We can hold fast to the things we know, and they will make a place of confidence large enough for our living and dying. BROTHERHOOD. Give bread to a stranger, in the name of the universal brotherhood which binds together all men under the common father of nature.—Quintilian. LOOK FOR THE SUNLIGHT- i ou will excuse me, it J ask you to IOOK out for the sunlight the Lord sends into your days," said a deep thinker; and Tery needful it, the precept. We are so apt to note the dark days, rather than those more common days of sunshine. And it is one of the distinguishing characteristics of a Christian that he abounds in thanksgivings. THEY WAIT FOR YOU. Look not, 0 friend, with unavailing tears Into the Past-look to the brave young years! Look to the Future: all is there in wait, All that you fought for by the broken gate— The faith that faltered and the hope that fell; The aong that died in a lonely knell. It is all there-the love that went astray With bitter cries in that remembered day; The joys that were so needed by the heart, And all the tender dreams you saw depart, Nothing is lost forever that the soul Cried out for: all is waiting at the goal. —Edward Markham (Book of Verse.) A LAST RESOURCE. How often do we look upon God as our last and feeblest resource. We go to Him because we have nowhere else to go.—George Maedonald. MY NEIGHBOUR. Mv neighbour is the man who needs me or whom I need, which is in the end the same thing; for the opportunity to iminister to need is itself a distinct need of mine. A wholly self-sufficient life needs no neigh- bours; and, if there could be tiuch a life, it would have no neighbours. The man who has "fallen among thieves," and been beaten and robbed, is my neighbour, though 1 h..t chance to fall in with him on the highway, while the self-righteous. self-contained Pharisee whose house stands opposite mine iis-well. the postman and the rate collector are all we have in common. Physical con- tacts have much to do with forming com- munity ties; but Aspiritiial communisn. the union of mutual need, breaks all the confine- ments of physical juxtaposition to thrust asunder the unneighbourly, and overleaps distance and physical barriers to bring together neighbourly souls.—Joseph Ernest McAfee. CAUSE OF FAILURES. It is not losses or falls that make a failure of life, but lack of courage to get up and go on, to pick up the old tools and try agam. While lpife lasts, endeavour must last also, for defeat lies in giving up. SUCCESS. 'Tis not alone through toil and strength of soul That life's success is always to be won; For see, how many fail to reach the goal, Though struggling till their weary lives are done. But there must be the gift aright to choose The path which nature for each life -or- dains Else may the giant through misguidance lose That which the weaker fellow-mortal | gains. DECEIT. It is easy to deceive one's self without per- ceiving it as it is difficult to deceive othem without their finding it out.—Rochefou- cauld. PASS IT OA. -11 1- !.L. _1' No man can get a messing anu Keep it mx to himself withiout having it like stagitant water in his soul but if it overflows to others it shall become a perennial spring to J himself and to the world.-Wiltcn Merle Smith. i BUSINESS AND RELIGION. I Into every honest business religion can i enter. If a man must bar religion out of his day in order to succeed, he is in an un- righteous occupation. I WAVERING. Like a piece of iron between two magbeto, so does the human soul waver between divine and earthly things, and between be- lief and feeling. Its purity consists solely i in withdrawing itself from the love of I things earthly. -Savona-rolt.

r 8 SS [ALL RIGHTS RKSBRVSD. ) [Copyright in U.S. America. SS I For Life and Liberty g S By SYDNEY HUNGERFORD. S E? vn Lva Author of Condemned by Choice," Weighed in the Balance," &c. ln7 SYNOPSIS. I SHINUFFKY, Ballingarry, Ireland, had been the home of the Desmonds for ajfes. When the story opens the head of the family is dead in the house, leaving or.:y one daughter, Noreen, a beautiful girl. The blow is all the harder to bear for the girl. because a week earlier the man she loved—Arthur Rainti Lln-htd written breaking off the engagement-for no app-rent reason. One of the servant*, going: up to the dead man's room, hears strange noises therein, and two other old servants, Martin Clough and his wife, seem unnecessarily harsh with the girl when she recites the story. Noreen goes to bed, but at three o'clock in the morning is roused bv a repetition of the mysterious sounds coming from the death- chamber. She calls Martin, but ha is obviously terrified, and Noreen searches for the origin of the sounds alone. Outside the fated room she sees the figure of a woman and faints. The next morning Martin's conduct is strange. The reading of the will brings another blow to Noreen-she is left almost penniless, two bequests whielk nearly absorb the fortune being left to Martin Clough and his wife and Dr. McGrath, the family's medical adviser-th- e latter gets f5, 000. There is no reason given for the legacy to McGrath, and the villagers talk. One Captain O'Hagan, who is passionately but abortively fond of Noreen, in the course of a conversation with Nurse Hose Evans, has his suspicions confirmed. The nurse was formerly in charge of the dead squire, but after being summarily dismissed she accidentally overhears a con- versation between McGrath and Martin Clough which seems to prove that the death was hastened somewhat. O'Hagan i hopes to use his knowledge as a lever to Noreen's affections, and goes.on collecting evidence here and there. Leaving the tervants to look after the old place, Noreen leaves Shanliffey for London. « O'Hagan pays a visit to Hannah Clough when he knows Martin is away, and frightens the poor woman by little details he has gathered. With his suspicions confirmed, he follows Noreen to London. At the house of her friends Noreen meets a Colonel BannernilLil, who evidently knows something that is not to the credit of Dr. McGrath, for he tuddenly stops in the recital of an incident in which the doctor is mentioned on learning that Noreen knows him. Captain O'Hagan calls on Noreen to play his cards, but he has reckoned without the cold reception he would receive. He immediately gets to the root of the matter by denouncing McGrath as a murderer,?%ut Noreen declines to, ly isten to him. Later he tries to force bis presence on her at an exhibition, but receives a blow from the gentleman who is with her. CHAPTER IX. I DOUBTS. I The whole incident had happened go quickly that it had attracted little atten- tion; indeed, Dot many people had been in the vicinity at the time, for it was getting late. "Is your honour mu-ch hurt?" inquired the man who had come to his aid, sympa- thetically. O'Hagan growled out an oath, and, sup- ported by the other, he limped painfully into a quiet corner of the grounds, where he rank down on to a seat and began to dab his face with his handkerchief. "Sure, it was a blackguard assault, you know," continued the man, whose nation- ality was apparent. "I saw it all. He caught you by the shoulder and slung you away like a rotten potater. Bad cess to him! And you no more than going to have, a word with an ould friend. Sure, Miss Desmond ought to know better than to trate a counthryman and neighbour so shabbily. "You know who she was, then-you know Miss Desmond T" said O'Hagan, whom the shock of falling had sobered somewhat. "And you know me, too, I suppose? You're Irish, of course, I can hear." "Irish I am, your honour, and not ashamed of the fact. Me name's Pat Duggan, and I come from Ballingarry. But as there wasn't a blessed job to be got in all the counthryside I dared out and came over here,, and now I'm working for the exhibition folks at twenty-four bob a wake. Ah, but if Mishter Desmond himself had lived I wouldn't have had to lave the ould place at all." "What difference could his dying or living make to you? You weren't working for him." Mr. Patrick Duggan winked knowingly. "Least said soonest mended, sir. The ould man's gone, so it's no good at all, at all. Only it was moighty hard luck for Pat Duggan when the breath wint out of his body. Too full of his own humiliating experience to press the man further, O'Hagan rose rather unsteadily to his feet and prepared to go. With Duggan's help he had removed most of the traces of his misadventure from his person. "You'll pass now, sir, till you get home," said Duggan. "Good luck to your honour," he added, as the captain slipped a coin into his willing palm, "and I hope you'll get even with the blackguard as misused yer." And with this pious aspiration Mr. Duggan re- turned to his interrupted duties, all uncon- scious of the price he was to pay for having played the good Samaritan. Consumed with the most passionate vin- dictiveness, O'Hagan left the exhibition and returned to his hotel. Whatever love he had felt for Noreen Desmond—and he had felt all that his nature was capable of—had changed to tire most virulent hate. He had not beea too drunk to remark the look of disgust on her face as she turned and recognised him, nor to hear the contemptuous words with which she had cut short his stammering utterance. Then came the vice-like grip on his collar of her companion, who flung him off like a noxious reptile, and, so far as Noreen was concerned, the incident ended. She did not even look round .to see him pick .himself up. Could contempt go further? Captain O'Hagan swore more oaths during the next hour than lie had ever before com- pressed into so short a time, and when he awoke the next morning and in his sober senses reviewed the occurrences of the pre- ceding night, so far from his bitterness sub- siding,, it was, if possible, intensified. He had recognised in Noreen's companion and his assailant the tall man of aristocratic bear- ing he had seen her with before, and jealous rage possessed him. All thought of bringing the crime of Desmond's murder home to its perpetrators was abandoned, and O'Hagan determined to exert his influence with Nurse Evans in an entirely opposite direction. What passive revenge against Noreen was possible should be his. But it was a poor and unsatisfying vengeance at the best, one of which the girl herself must necessarily remain in ignorance. Pat Duggan's words about Desmond's death having affected his interests, O'Hagan i did not take very seriously. Still, it occurred to him it might be as well to probe the matter further. There might be something worth knowing in it. He determined, to see the man again, having little doubt that his reticence would not withstand a renewed attack. A day or two later he paid a second visit to Earrs Court, only hte o ?aid Eftrls Court, only to learn, after consider- able inquiry, that the luckless Irishman ha-d been summarily dismissed on the night of his last- visit, and, indirectly, as a conseauence of it, since the foreman, who was rather a cross-grained man, had resented his subordi- nate's withdrawal from his duties to assist that gentleman in his hour of misfortune, O Hagan shrewdly guessing that previous offences against discipline had much to do with the foreman's action. Anyway, Duggan had gone, and his whereabouts being un- known, the captain was unable to trace him. When,- not long afterwards, O'Hagan re- turned to Ireland, o one of his first acts w»s to pen a letter to Nurse Evans. In it, without absolutely saying so outright, he implied that certain other facts had come to his know- ledge %,bich made him doubt' McGrath'# guilt- "It would be a most serious thing for us both, my dear Rose," the letter went ob, "if, after publicly committing ourselves, it proved that we had been mistaken." When Nurse Evans read the letter she gave & sceptical grunt. "Not guilty, indeed! I've no more doubt of McGrath's guilt. than I have of my own Innocence. What does Terence mean? Why can't he speak out properly? If he's heard anything, he ought to tell me what. That was the understanding." CHAPTER X. LORD THORFIELD. At the end of the London season Noreen accompanied the Armitages to their country house in Buckinghamshire, and from there went to the seaside, returning to town about the middle of October. One day early in January she was in- formed that Lord Thorfield had called to see her. She was r.ore embarrassed than surprised, for she had little difficulty in guessing his mission, his attentions having been too marked during the past sif months to Jcave her in much doubt on the subject. T1¡a t the viscount was about to ask her to be hia wife she was tolerably certain; the was niiich less certain what her answer was going to be. A few mouths airo she would it have unhesitatingly refused the offer, but now she was by no means so decided in her own mind. She had given to Arthur Rain- ham all the unrestrained, uncalculating af- fection of a young girl's first passion, be- lieving it to be returned to the full. In this, she told herself bitterly, she had been mistaken. Arthur Rainham had repaid her whole-hearted devotion with a love-if love it could be called—of that cold, hesitating kind which could not withstand an adverse current or influence—though what the latter could be Noreen could only blindly con- jecture. In his letter he had hinted at the existence of a barrier. What barrier could it be that demanded the sharp sundering of tlleir close and tender relationship? A wife? Could he already have a wife? No! Noreen rejected the thought as too improbable. Arthur Rainham was not a man in whose past lurked such a skeleton as a secret mar- riage. Besides, were it so, he would never have engaged himself to marry her. Had he met another woman he liked better? When the idea first came to her it gave her a sharp stab of pain, and she tried to put it from her; but as the months passed by she came to regard it as the most reasonable ex- planation of Rainham's conduct. And now, believing herself thus superseded, was she to pass the remainder of her life faithful to the memory of that old affection, turning aside from other more lasting devotion? It was this question which Noreen had begun to ask herself during the past few weeks when her woman's instinct told her that the time was not far distant when Lord Thor- field would put the question to her, the answer to which would mean so much to both. And now the time had come, and they were face to face. Viscount Thdrfield was a tall, rather thin man, of aristocratic appearance. He was rather more than forty years of age, though he scarcely looked it. Ordinarily of calm and dignified bearing, he was now decidedly nervous. They both talked together for a few minutes on indifferent subjects, both striving, not very successfully, to appear at ease. Then, t taking advantage of a break in the conversation. Lord Thorfield uttered the words he had come to speak. He uttered them in a diffident, deprecatory sort of way, which touched the girl deeply. "I am not a young man, Miss Desmond," he went on, as Noreen did not reply at once, "but if you can care for me sufficiently to be my wife I hope and believe the disparity in our ages will not be too great to ensure your happiness." A moment's consideration and Noreen's de- termination was taken. She would tell Lord Thorficld the truth. She would tell him of her past engagement and its sudden termi- nation, not sparing herself in the recital, but admitting to the full her affection for Arthur Rainham. There should be no misapprehen- sion on his part, and if when he knew the facts he still wished her to be his wife, why should she not consent ? As for her own feel- ing towards him, she liked him very much in- deed, had done so from the first, and her re- gard had grown with time. She respected him both for his character and intelligence. As to love of the kind she had borne for Arthur Rainham she told herself that was not to be looked for again all that was at an end. Yes, she would marry Lord Thorfield if lie would be content to accept such affection as she had to give. But perhaps he might not I do so. But the viscount was too much in love to hesitate even after Noreen had bravely told him all. He did indeed venture a hesitating remark which brought a half angry flush to the girl's cheek. "If-if Mr. Rainham should seek to renew the engagement, Miss Desmond-" Then he stopped. "I should decline to renew it, Lord Thor- field," said Noreen proudly, and she .half turned away. The viscount. caught her hand. "Forgive m«i," he whispered, "I ought not to have said that." '1 hen he raised her fingers to his lips. And so it wa^ settled, and when a little -later the nobleman departed, Noreen re- ceived the hearty congratulations of her kins- folk. Only her cousin Connie pretended to be vastly incligiia it. "I have always regarded Lofd Thorfield as my particular property, Noreen," she said severely. "You have committed a bare-faced theft." At which Noreen smiled and made a refer- ence to a certain young officer in the Cold- stream Guards, which had the dual effect of silencing that young lady and calling up a most becoming colour into her cheeks. Her uncle teased her a little, wanting to know when she was going to look out for a flat. "Really, you know, I think it's high time you did. You've been here an unconscionable while, don't you think so? Whereat Mrs. Armitage, who was present, shook her head at her husband reprovingly, and Counie said "It's all very well, pa, now to talk like that, but you daren't have said it a month ago; you'd have been too wretchedly frightened lest Noreen should have taken you at your word." And then her father laughed and said he supposed Noreen might as well stop until Thorfield relieved them of her presence, which doubtless wouldn't be long. CHAPTER XI. THE FACE OF THE BELOVED. A small phaton drew up at !the entrance of a country house in Hampshire, and from it stepped a lady and an elderly woman at- tired in a bright puce-coloured dress of ahtique design. An elderly nran-servant admitted them while the carriage drove round to the stables. As they crossed the hall a door on the right opened, and a gentleman with a pale and rather grave face appeared on the threshold. You're back then, Grace," he said, ad- dressing the lady, and glancing at her com- panion, his dark eyes fastened themselves upon her keenly. Grace Rainham uttered a few words to the butler in a low tone, and that func- tionary turned, and making a sign to the woman to follow him, led the way to the servants' quarters then she turned to 2ier brother. "Well. Arthur, you see I've succeeded." "So it seems. Does the lady fulfil our re- quirements! "Admirably. In all London I couldn't have found a better. She's de&f as a post; almost mind, and can't speak at all dis- tinctly." Rainham gave a short laugh as they entered the library. "I wonder you n,anaged to pick up such an eminently suitable person. There's small fear of her making any discoveries, I should say. "And not much more of her communicat- ing them if she did. I can scarcely under- stand a word she says. The people at the registry office must have thought me very charitable or very mean. I rather en- couraged the latter idea, for I didn't want them to suspect the truth." "That's cot very likely," returred her brother, and relapsed into silence. Arthur Rainham was thirty years of age, though from a settled gravity of demeanou' he looked older. He was. a handsome man, ar, rather, would have been but for the sad expression of his countenance and its rather deep pallor, indicative of much mental. or physical suffering. His sister was. several years his senior, and rather like Iúm in the general expression of her. features, although scarcely so good-looking. They had resided at Woodbury House for about eighteen months. They neither visited nor received visitors. In the neighbourhood it was gener- ally supposed that Mr. Rainham. was an in- valid—a belief which Arthur Rainham him- self encouraged as much as possible. Only two of the servants from their old home had accompanied them to W oodbury-Bond. the butler, and Mrs. Powell, the. housekeeper; the rest wore discharged. It was remark- able, too, that with one exception no other regular indoor servants were engaged to take their place only a woman from the vil- lage came to Woodbury daily to do what cleaning was necessary. It was to mitigate the inconvenience of this arrangement that Miss Rainham had engaged the new arrival. The exception to which we have just referred was a middle-aged man named Dowler, who had taken up his residence at Woodbury almost as soon as the family arrived. He was understood in the district to be Mr. Rain- ham's own personal servant. Only some people thought he didn't look much like a Valet. He looked more like a sailor, being oronzed and burnt by the sun. He was about the middle height, and had long, sinewy arMF, suggestive of great muscular strength. His resemblance to a seafaring man was still further heightened by the d'css he invariably wore, namely, a blue sex go, double-breasted reefer suit. Added to this the fact that his manner was by no means so suave and respectful as that of most gentlemen's attendants, and it is no wonder that speculation was somewhat rife as to the exact position at Woodbury occu- pied by Mr. Dowler. After Miss Rainham left the room her brother remained for some time sunk in gloomy abstraction. He was aroused by a tap at the door and Bond entered. "Mr. Dowler, sir, would like to see you," said the man. A strange message for a valet to send to his master certainly, but Arthur Rainham cITecking a sigh, at once rose and left the library. He ascended the stairs, and, pass- ing along a. corridor, tapped at a door at the end. There was no answer, but a sound not un- like the growl of a savage dog seemed to come from beyond the door. A shudder passed through Arthur Rainham, but "he knocked again, more loudly, and a moment later the door was opened and Mr. Dowler stood there. His face was flushed and his dress disarranged somewhat. Did Mr. Dowler drink? His appearance just then would lead one to suppose so. He stood aside to allow his master to enter. Then he shut the door, and a listener, had one been near, might have heard the slight click a key makes turning in a well-oiled lock. Twenty minutes later Rainham emerged once more, and his face was white and hag- gard-looking. Scarcely had he passed through the door when it was shut and locked by Dowler, who remained within. De- scending the stairs, Rainham paused a moment irresolutely, and then, crossing the hall, entered his sister's sitting-room.. Miss Rainham was seated near the window, busy with some needlework. She looked up as the door opened and a pained expression came into her face. "You've seen Evelyn?" she said quickly. "Yes." "Was it a very violent outbreak?" Rainham sighed and flung himself wearily into a chair. "Not more so than usual. God help us, Grace, this life is almost,more than one can stand "It is hard, very hatd indeed but there seems to be no escape. For myself I do not BO much mind; but for you-my poor Arthur!—when I think of what this means to you—of the terrible sacrifice- "Hush." cried Rainham hoarsely, "1 dare not think of that." Grace sighed deeply while her nimble fin- gers busied themselves with the work on her lap. Neither spoke for several minutes. Then Rainham said: "I shall be going up to town to-morrow. I want to see Webster. I shall be back in the afternoon. v Grace looked up from her work. "Dont you think, Arthur, it would do you good to stay in town for a few days? You might per- haps find some distraction there." Rainham shook his head impatiently. "Neither London nor any other place can make me forget," he said. "Work is the best nepenthe. I have my book. I hope to complete the first volume by July." "I hope it will be a great success, Arthur." Rainham laughed bitterly. "It has been a great success," he said. "It has saved me from going mad. It has already fulfilled its raison d'etre." "Not entirely, dear," said Grace Rainham quietly. "I hope it is destined to do some- thing more—to show the world what a very clever man my brother is." Arthur Rainham laughed again, but this time less bitterly. Despite his heavy load of grief, he was not entirely dead to literary ambition. The. next day he went to London, and having transacted his business with his soli- citor he walked towards, Victoria. He had determined to take advantage of his presence in London to visit a friend in the neighbour- hood of Sloane Hquare. The distance being so short, he decided to walk. It was a bright May morning, when walking would have been a pleasure to anyone less burdened with care than Raiuham. He caught himself contrast- ing his present state of hopeless despondency, with the bright, almost exultant buoyancy of spirit that had been his but little more than eighteen months ago. A prey to these tor- turing reflections, he continued his way almost oblivious of his surroundings. Pass- ing Victoria Station, he crossed to Grosvenor Gardens, and turning to the left, found him- self in the heart of Belgravia. He did not knew the locality very well, but had a general idea of the direction he must take. Preaeutly he found himself approaching & church, which he rightly guessed Was St. Petk?r's, that most, fashioiiabl( of West End sanctuaries. A little crowd of people were gathered at the entrance, most of them poorly dressed, but some few more smartiy a t t i rtzd. A string of carriages, handsomely horsed and with liveried servants sporting uncomfortably large bouquets, was drawn up to the kerb. A society wedding was evidently in progress. Hardly conscious of .what he was doing. Arthur Rainham paused a moment, on the fringe of the crowd. The strains of Mendelssohn's "Wedding March" were borne to the ears of the waiting specta- tors, and there was a sudden quickeniug1 of eager curiosity and pressing forward among the sex which predominates at such func- tiens. "They're coming out now, Mibel," said a shabbilv-drcssed girl of about seventeen to her friend, artfully edging her way into the front rank. Mabel essayed to follow, but her progress was somewhat barred by an old gentleman whose interest in the proceedings seemed as keen as that of the most sentimental maiden present. He was a well-dressed old gentle- man, with silver grey hair and a long flowing white beard. Becoming aware of the young lady's object, he stepped aside and allowed her to squeeze in beside her friend. In turning partly round the old gentleman's glance happened to fall upon Rainham, and he gave a sudden, quick start of sui prise, and immediately averted his face. Rainham. who had come to a halt just behind, noticed the look and wondered. "The old chap seemed to recognise me," he aid to himself, "though I don't. know him from Adam. I wonder who lie can be? He was -till speculating as to his neigh- ocduu's identity when a sudden closing up of the crowd and excited whisperings pro- c ;¡ i m<>d the fact that the wedding party were Hoout to leave the church; indeed, the cen- vral figures in the recently concluded cere- were just emerging from the porch. The eld gentleman with the. patriarchal beard at once removed his hat in respectful salutation, a fact which drew sundry nudges and whispers from those around. A youth wnrse blue-striped apron sufficiently pro- claim c-d his calling gave a whistle, and wink- i1' at two girlr, standing near at once swept off his cap -with a mighty flourish, whereat the young ladies giggled. Now, you girls, leave off larfin- he said severely. "You may come to it yerselves 6omed'v yer never know." But the bride a-id bridegroom were step- ping lightly towards the carriage at the moment, and the tiptoeing maidens were Loo much engaged to acknowledge the sally. "Aow, I s'v, daon't she look noice? He's a lot older than her, ain't het" And so on were the none too softly uttered comments. But there was one among the little group of spectators who shrank back with suddenly blanched face and uttered a swift but in- stantly repressed exclamation as the bridal pair passed down the living lane towards the carriage. A stout woman. with a basket standing near regarded Rainham curiously. "There's one as ain't feeling very gay over it, I'm thinking," she muttered. "Hes fair knocked over. An old sweetheart, I'll bet." Biting his lips till the blood came, Rain- ham forced himself to look once more at the veiled, satin-clad figure about to enter the carriage. Did some magnetic, oornpeiling force exist in his gaze? It almost seemed so; for in the very act of entering the vehicle the bride slightly turned her head, and for one brief second the eyes of Noreen, Viscountess Thorfield, met those of her old lover. A moment later she had taken her seat, the bridegroom followed, and the carriage drove i swiftly away. For several moments Arthur Rainham j gazed after it with dull, unseeing gaze. He was dimly conscious that a second carriage had drawn up to receive its gailv-dressed freight, but & mist seemed to come before his eyes and blur his vision. Only when the second carriage had driven off did he rouse himself; then he turned abruptly and walked away. He crossed the square with nervous, hurried strides, his legs seeming to shake and tremble as after a long illness. The square, with its central patch of green, seemed to be swimming round him, and a strange singing noise was in his ears. "Married," he muttered hoarsely, "mar- ried! On, my God, why has it come upon me like this, without a moment's warning? To see her married to another! What fate took me to that particular spot? I did not even know she was engaged. Married! That man beside her—her husband! I cannot realise it. And yet why not? he broke off, bitterly. Why not? It is better so. Why should I grudge her happiness with another since she could never have been mine!" But again and again as he walked blindly on a groan of anguish burst from him as he thought of the woman he loved married to I another. Conscious at last that his distraught manner was exciting notice, he struggled to regain outward composure and at length suc- ceeded. But all thought of visiting hi3 friend was abandoned. Moved by a sudden impulse he entered a newsagent's shop and bought a paper. So far he was ignorant of the identity of the man Noreen had married. He mounted a 'bus going in the direction of Knightsbridge. Then unfolding the news- paper he quickly found what he sought. "A very pretty wedding takes place to-day at St. Peter's, Eaton Square, the bride being Miss Noreen Desmond, a very beautiful Irish girl, and the bridegroom Viscount Thorfield, a nobleman of ancient family and great wealth. Lord Thorfield is a colonel in the Buffshire Yeom-anry, and has made two un- successful attempts to enter the House of Commons, his peerage being an Irish one and not carrying a seat in the British House of Lords." Rainham finished reading, and crumpled up the paper so fiercely in his hand as to draw the attention of his fellow passengers, but he heeded their surprised looks not at all. "A rich man and a nobleman!" he mut- tered' bitterly. "What woman would not forget her old lover for that! But even as the gibe passed through his mind he felt its injustice. Noreen had not been false to him. Their separation had been his own doing; his-and Fate's. (To be Continued.)

DRINK IN HANOVERIAN TIMES. With regard to alcoholic drink, at the beginning of the Hajioverian period, gin- drinking spread with alarming rapidity among the masses, and this vice evoked a measure of stern repression in 1736. It was known as the "Gin Act," which. like all over-zealous legislation, was speedily modi- fied. The result was a remarkable decrease in the consumption of distilled spirits in the latter half of the century. Coffee, when first introduced in 1650, fell under a ban, the first coffee-house being set up in Oxford bv a Jew named Jacobs. In 1657 one James Farr was brought before the authorities for making coffee in London—"Whereby he annoveth his neighbours bv evil smells, and for keeping a fire to the great danger and affrig-htment of his neighbours." In these enlightened days we use coffee as a dispeller of "evil smells. Tea was introduced in the year 1600, port wine not before the reign of William III., and champagne in the fol-lowinky reign. To conclude this dissertation on drinks, many and various, history relates that under King James 1. the Legislature -passed several acts to cmb the prevailing drink, but the King himself set an example of intemper- ance. Under the stern rule of Cromwell and the Puritans matters mended greatly.

I THE OLDEST GAME. The general belief is held that chess i. the oldest game in the world, and it is asserted' that its origin is lost in the mist of antiquity. As a matter of fact, draughts, as a game, is immeasurably older, and even the quite modern, to UB, game of halma may be O'lder still. Cheæ in British history caB only be traced back to our own sixth cen- tury, although it it* claimed that China played it centuries before our era. There has been added to the Egyptian rooms in the British Museum draughtboards and draughtsmen which are proved to be of a period as far back as 1050 B.C., or over 3,£00 years old. These have been taken from tombs, as it was customary to bury a multi- tude of articles, food, vessels, furniture, gems, and games with the dead for their advantage in a future state. Many of the draughtsmen are well-carved heads of animals but several sete are exactly the same shape as the halma man used to-dc.y, a sort of squat pyramid, and there teems reason to believe that these may have ]xen ueed for another game than draughts. In an extremely wonderful papyrus which presented to the nation by King Edward VII., and is now at Bloomsburv, where the new galleries bearing his name are open, an Egyptian queen of the period of 1050 H.C. I*- seen playing a solitary game of what looks like draughts, so that "solitaire," or "patience," must have been new under the sun.

I Blfs ABOUT BABIES. Incubators for babies were used by the ancient Egyptians. In many countries the belief is held that babies born at precisely 12 midnight are endowed with occult powers. In some parts of Ireland a belt made of woman's hair is placed about the new-born baby to keep evil spirits away. If you rock an empty cradle you will rock a new baby into it, is a superstition that is almost everywhere prevalent. In the British Museum are specimens of babies' feeding- bottles dating back to between six and seven hundred years before Christ.

CLUB WINDOW. Whilst Mr. Andrew Carnegie w P.- stuggling for wealth in his early days tnc only recreation he allowed himself was ar occasional fishing expedition. Now that the wealth has come to him he is an ardent angler. When Mr. Thomas Burt, M.P., "Fathei of the House of Commons," was on one oc- casion opposed by the Conservatives of Mor- peth, a local Tory squire was asked to lend his motor-car for election purposes. Hi- reply surprised the agent. "Never," h<: said, "shall I raise a finger to oppose :\1r. Burt. Indeed, I intend to vote for him his merits as a most fit and proper person. When the time comes for his retirement 1 shall be loyal to my Conservative alle- giance. I shall give you then both my vote and my car, but not till then." 0 0 A good story is told by Sir Auckland Geddes concerning an interfering pul.ik- house loafer and a Canadian soldier w 11 o bore on his shoulder straps the initials "C.E. which stands for Canadian Engi- neers. The soldier, his face a study in con- centrated wrathfulness, had the civilian by the scruff of the neck, and was apparently just on the point of giving him a thrashing when a belated policeman put in an appear- ance. 'Now, then, what's all this about? demanded the constable. "What't-. it about?" replied the Canadian, giving the wretched loafer an extra shake to em- phasise hie words, "Why, he called me a conscientious ejector. Now watch him bf-ing ej ected." Lbrd Hugh Cecil is a connoisseur in old- English furniture, and he has many valu- able specimens, many of which are, of course, family heirlooms. On one occasion Lord Hugh Cecil was bound for Hatfield he was travelling in the same carriage with a man who during the journey took out of an attache-case several drawings of pieces of furniture, after the style of Adams, Chip- pendale, Sheraton, and others. Presently, Lord Hugh Cecil got into conversation with the man, and the two had an interesting talk on the subject of old-English furni- ture. "Well," said Lord Hugh, when the train stopped at Hatfield, "I get out here. I ''I "So have 1!" have enjoyed our chat!" "So have I!" was the reply. "And if you are thinking of opening up business in this line, here is my card. I may be of use to yon! The stranger handed Lord Hugh Cecil his card, which bore the name of a furniture-dealer in the Midlands. » Lord Duncannon tells a good story of an Irish caddie with whom he was apparently on very good terms. His, lordship and a well-known statesman were playing golf, and the former was six holes up by the time the ninth was reached. Here the issue was doubtful, but at length it was agreed that it should be halved. The Viscount and the caddie then went ahead, when Lord Dun- vcannon said, "Somehow I believe I won that hole, Rafferty." The boy looked disgusted and turned on his companion, saying, "Sure now, be quiet and lave it to him. Do you want to break- a man's heart? Dr. Macnamara, M.P., Financial Secre- tary of the Admiralty, was educated at St. Thomas's School, Exeter, and after a course in a teachers' training college he worked hard as a teacher at Exeter, Huddersfield, and Bristol from 1876 to 1892. He was President of the National Union of Teachers in 1896. Keen and self-confident, with a pair of piercing blue eyes, Dr. Macnamara has forced himself to the front by sheer ability and capacity for work. To his inti- mates he is always known as "Old Mac"; while the journalistic profession have dubbed hiin the man in a hurry." An amusing story is told concerning an accidental meeting—in the dining-room of a big New York hotel—between Lord Clonmell and a. prominent Irish-American. His lord- ship, after some general conversation, asked his new acquaintance what part of Ireland he originally came. from. "Well, as a mat- ter of fact," was the reply, "at one time I was one of voijir tenants, and "confiden- tially—"I don't mind telling you that I was a thoroughly discontended one." "Indeed' replied Lord Clonmell with & slight raise of the eyebrows. "Yes," continued the other thougutfully, "I was. And now here are you and I drinking champagne at the same table, while in Ireland I could never get close enough to you to hit you with a shot- gun < As a boy, Mr. Edison, the American "Wizard," was no whit less industrious than in the crowded days of his manhood, for be- fore he had entered the teens he filled the róles of newsboy, editor, printer and pub- lisher of the "Grand Trunk Herald," over- seer of three stores at Port Huron, and praeticau chemist and electrician. In the light of his later brilliant achievements it is almost forgotten nowadays that his first in- vention took the form of a machine for re- cording the votes in the State Legislature. Although the instrument was a suooess, it was rejected by the authorities. Lord Claud Hamilton, the chairman of the Great Eastern Railway, possesses a good fund of railway stories. One of the best re- lates to a rather over-dressed lady who entering a carriage with her little boy, at once began to put on "side" before the ether passengers. Presently for Bonie reason, the train pulled up beside a large signal cabin, and the youngster soon took a lively intere in the two me:1 working the leVers. "Oh, ma," he suddenly exclaimed, "I am thirsty! Let's get out and go into this pub. for a drink, same as you and pa do." "Hush, Bertie' That's not a public-house; it's a signal-box." "Look here, ma," cried the young hopeful, "don't you try to kid me. If it ain't a. pub. what have those two chaps" —pointing to the signalmen at the k-vers-- "been drawing beer for all the while, we'-ve been waiting here." The Prince of Wales hates anyone to be unduly respectful or deferential. Once at Oxford, when driving in his car, he came to a turn in the' street just behind a fellow- undergraduate, accompanied by a lady, in another car. There was not room for both ;ars to pass into the turn, and the under- graduate allowed the Prince to pass him. This piece of politeness, so far from pleasing the Prince, annoyed him. His Royal High- aess said afterwards to a friend, in speaking .-)f the matter: "The fellow had reached the turn first and was perfectly entitled to pass me. He should have done so, especially as tie had a lady with him." A good story is told by Mr. Guy Calthrop, the Coal Controller, about an Irishman he met while railroading in the Argentine; The Irishman, who had come out there some time previously in an emigrant ship, had saved a bit of money, and came back to his native land for a holiday. There he met an old schoolfellow, and started to tell him of his iuccees as an athlete. J ust before I came back," he mentioned modestly, "I won a Told medal for a hundred yards' sprint." 'Good for von said his old friend. "I've £ at some trophies, too. I've got gold medals for the half-mile, the mile, and the five-mile race: five silver cups for swimming, a marble clock and some more cups for rvcling; and two or three belts for boxing and wrestling." The returned emigrant stared at him in amazed admiration. 'Shure," he gasped, "it's the champion itlilete you are intirely." "Not at all!" was the grinning reply. "Not at all, me bhoy! [ keep a pawnbroker's shop." Lord Derby is one of the most popular rhiefs that ever presided at the War Office. There are hundreds of clerks at the War Office with whom Lord Derby is very rarely brought into personal contact, but whenever this does occur the Secretary for War never forgets the face of even the most insignifi- cant subordinate, and has always a word to say to him if be afterwards may chance to come across him.

Mr. Durie Miller, whose death is an- nounced, was for fifty years secretary of the Irish Society, a committee of the London Corporation for managing estates in Ulster taken over from the Crown in 1613. Mr. L. T. Driffield, the Cambridge double "blue," assistant-master at St. John's School, Leatherhead, has died suddenly at the school. He was one of the best goal- keepers of his day, ploying for the Corinth- ians and Casuals.

I For taking matches into a gunpowder fac- torv Charles Henry Mean, of Hertford, a seven teen-year-old munition worker, earning j about £ 2 10s. a week, was fined £ 6. j All persons going to the United States must now carry passports or other official documents, with signed and certified photo- graphs attached, and these must be verified ) by American Consular officers in the coun- try from which they 6tart.