er she told him, the more quickly he would feel towards her like a cousin. On the other hand, it would not be very easy to make the announcement; indeed, she did not see how she could ever explain to his face why she had not done so at first.

She decided to wait until he had heard from the lady.

A pleasant hour and a half spent at luncheon, hearty congratulations from Archibald, and a song or two by her were therefore the main happenings during her second visit to the flat where the wrenched ankle imprisoned the lighthearted man of letters. As he was advised to keep upon his back, and found himself as comfortable in his friend's quarters as he could be anywhere, he insisted that Laura should remain in his home, with his servant to wait on her, adding that it would be all the more pleasant for her if she assured herself of sufficient permanency there to call in a dressmaker, who would provide companionship as well as further the work she was planning.

She returned to Archibald's flat in time to keep her appointment with Mr. Shipton, who drove her to his residence, and, on the way, gave her cheering news of her mother's condition. The dinner was very formal and elaborate; but Laura spent a pleasant couple of hours afterwards with Mr. Shipton's motherly wife and two daughters of about her own age. She came away charging her mind with many friendly promises of shopping tours with these ladies, and somewhat astonished by the contemplation of the quantity of dresses and garments of many sorts which they had, with some difficulty, convinced her that she needed.

At a little after nine o'clock that night she was once again back in the luxurious little flat, free from even recollected dangers, and happier than she had been at any time since her misfortunes began.

Suddenly an unaccountable disquiet surged upon her. She noticed it first in a sensation of restlessness, but it presently attacked her nerves, and then a nameless fear seized her. It was as if she had been suffering an intense nervous strain which had been suddenly released, leaving her in a state of physical exhaustion. But the worst effect was upon her mind, which was seized with a dread of approaching calamity. The premonitions of the com

ing of death which we read of as impressing men at times are mild, if they have been correctly described, when compared with the sensation Laura felt, for hers was rather to be likened to the panic of a gentle animal that is hunted by a superior and cruel adversary. The quaking of the earth under the feet of men gives to the more timid among them precisely the feeling which now overcame her. Afraid to remain alone, she was about to call the servant, upon some pretext of needing her, when the girl came of her own accord.

"I doan't loike the luks of him," said she. "The vagabond! He's handed in this at the dure. Pl'ase rade it, ma'am."

She handed to Laura a small piece of folded paper, and Laura read it aloud: "Mr. Paton wants Annie O'Brien to come to him at once. He will need her about an hour."

"Why," Laura exclaimed, "this is not a gentleman's writing! And it is not signed!"

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Mebbe that nagur woman wrote it, ma'am," Annie suggested. "It has a nagurry look about it. Sure I'd mistrusht it intoirely, excipt that mebbe she wrote it. Will I go, miss?"

"I think you had better," Laura said. Presently the rear door of the flat closed behind the servant, and the sound it made was followed by a knock at the front door, not far from where Laura was seated. She answered the summons, and found herself face to face with Bill Heintz. Before she realized his purpose he had pushed past her into the room, and another loaferly-looking man had taken his place in the doorway.

"What do you mean by coming here? Go out, sir! What do you want?" Laura demanded, bravely, though she felt her heart growlseless and heavy.

"By thunder! You have struck it rich, haven't you?" Heintz exclaimed, as his eye swept the luxury around him. “I've brought back the bundle of letters that was in your basket. They ain't no good to me. How much will you give for 'em?"

"I do not want them," Laura said. "But I will give you one minute to go away, or I will send for the servants."

What do you want to lie to me for?" Heintz asked. "You've only got one servant, and I've took pains to send her away with a letter."

The full force of the situation stagger

"I shall give you nothing," said she, still facing Heintz bravely. But I shall rouse the house if you do not go away at once."

Nick," Heintz said to his confederate, "shut the door and send up the gentleman. Tell him he kin try his turn." Then he turned to Laura and said, with an eager quickening of his speech, "By miss, don't lose no time. The gentleman what's coming is going to do you harm. I want to get out of it. Give me a few dollars, miss, and I'll clear out. He can't carry you away without me. He was going to use chlory form if you showed fight, but I've got the bottle in my pocket. It's true; don't think I'm kidding. I ain't stuck on this job like I was. Something queer's come over me since I come here. Hand over a few dollars, will you, and I'll skin out-and my pal too. The gent can't do nothing without us."

Laura looked him up and down with contempt. Whatever there was in the atmosphere, surcharging it with some mighty influence, was causing the ruffian before her to meditate precipitate flight. At the same time it was tautening her nerves until they felt ready to snap.

Three Etherians-Editha, Mrs. Isabel, and Deborah-were in the room. The excitement under which they labored, and the gravity of the situation which so disturbed them, made itself felt, even by the wretched tramp with whom they could have no intercourse.

As Lamont came with strong, firm tread along the hall and opened the door, the spirits of Mrs. Lamont and Editha confronted that of Deborah with such a concentration of their indignant displeasure that the courage of the mischievous Etherian was daunted.

"Deborah"- it was Mrs. Isabel who began the communication - "your son is at the door. Disarm his mind of its present shameful purpose; turn him back impotently; withdraw your wicked influence over him at once, or-"

"Or what, Isabel? You do not dare to utter the threat which I read in your mind as clearly as if you had spoken it. You will not bring public dishonor on your own earthly kin."

Lamont entered the room boldly, but on the next instant exhibited embarrassment, as he bowed awkwardly to Laura.

ently to offer his hand, when a shiver coursed down his body, and he paused, and became irresolute and confused.

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You have read but a part of my will, Deborah," Mrs. Lamont went on. "Promise what I demand, this instant, that you will dissuade your son, and that you will take your presence from among these mortals, or I will call out that Name the mere utterance of which will instantly bring upon you the penalty of your sin."

"Oh, Isabel, you would not do that? Not that! Not that, I implore you!" Deborah cried, with impassioned thoughtutterance, as she advanced towards her accusers. "I imagined I read in you a purpose to pursue my son with earthly misfortune. In my concern for him I was ready to defy you; but, as you may want mercy, I beg you not to have me judged."

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Do not delay. We are both determined, Deborah," Mrs. Lamont replied. "Refuse what we command, and, truly, your son shall be known among men as a felon. a felon. We will influence Laura Balm and her advisers to accuse him before the law of earth; but, this instant, we command you to promise to send your son out of this room without new sin upon his conscience, and to warn him from this girl's presence forever on this earth. Swear, too, that you will cease your mischief among men, or I will now speak that August Name to pronounce which will be to degrade you for ages if our cause be just."

"No, no! I promise all that you command. But, before I go," Deborah continued, "I pray you to believe that at no time, in even the slightest degree, have I given my son other counsel than to marry Laura Balm in order that he might obtain control of his uncle's estate. You must know I speak the truth. He would have outstepped my urging-he had even planned her ruin in Powellton, but I controlled him against his inclination. This I will swear."

"It is true," replied Mrs. Lamont; "still, you have wickedly misused your powers. All your influence has been towards encouraging his selfishness--one of the ugliest of sins which it is our part to do our utmost to correct. And what now, if you have your way, and he were to carry her to his apartments? How

certain are you of your influence in that case? What of her good name? Deborah, you have abused the powers given to us for the advantage of our kin on earth. You have pursued this young woman with heartless unconcern for her peace and innocence. You have tortured her feelings, frightened her, thwarted the course of justice. You cannot deny it. Take your son away, and remove your evil influence from earth at once, for we are both in earnest."

Deborah turned and faced her son, transporting herself as quickly as thought moves to a position before him. On the instant she assumed a form which was visible only to him. It stood between Laura and himself, revealing his mother, terror-stricken, and, at the same time, in an attitude of warning. One of her hands was upraised, and in her face he read an extremity of alarm. Lamont shrank from the spectre with a stifled exclamation.

"Do you see anything before you, Miss Balm?" he cried, adding: "No; it has gone. I could have sworn- But I must be ill, I think. I feel so strangely."

"Your own thoughts have frightened you, Mr. Lamont," Laura said, with unsteady voice, for the influence of the Etherians had not yet abated. "You came to persecute me, but I am no longer afraid. You will not carry out your plans."

"Will you be reasonable to-day?" he asked. "I do not want to alarm you. I cannot understand what has come over me. It is too ridiculous-but I feel ill, Miss Balm."

His appearance confirmed the truth of what he said, for his face was pallid and his lips were bloodless.

"I came to ask you once again to do me the honor to be my wife. If I have been rude and frightened you, it is because of your groundless prejudice, and because you will not see how intense is my feeling for you."

"Mr. Lamont"-she spoke more calmly than before--"you came to use violence, but I am not afraid of you. I am a different woman; I feel many years older than when I came here with you only two days ago; older, and, I am sorry to say, much wiser. Your object then-as it is now that you have hired these ignorant men to carry me off-was to secure the fortune that has come to me.

How can you be so wicked? You my cousin, too?"

"Your fortune? You know, then, that you are the heir?" Jack exclaimed, in astonishment. "You have seen the advertisements-or has Archibald Paton told you? I was told he did not know your name."

"I have seen my lawyers and those of our uncle," Laura replied. "Mr. Paton knows nothing; but many friends and protectors have sprung up around me. I am no longer the ignorant, helpless girl you expected to find me. But that is nothing beside the thought that we are connected by blood, and I had a right to rely upon your relationship as a guarantee of your friendship and help. I am sorry, Mr. Lamont; for when you leave me, as I am sure you will do at once, we never can meet again."

"Hear me, please! Let me plead for myself."

I am sure it is best for you to go,"

she said.

At that moment the door flew wide open, and came to a standstill with violence against the body of Bill Heintz. Christmas had flung it wide, and was now entering the room followed by two policemen, one of whom held Heintz's companion by the collar.

"This is the other one," said Christmas, pointing to Heintz. "You thought I should keep my talk for old women, didn't you? But you see what I was telling you in the country has come true. How d' do, miss? Was old Christmas right about the fairies, too? Was he right about the web he used to talk about, when you smiled as you listened? Oh, don't be ashamed; I don't blame you. You was always kind to Christmas. Did he lie to you about those bad hands!" (He pointed at Jack Lamont.) "Old Christmas comes with good news this time, miss. The web is broken. Them bad hands is off you, miss. You have passed the last of them trouble-places I seen when I was looking yon and yon into your muddled life."

to this sofy when I come back. betther now?"

Are ye

"Yes, thank you. I did not know I fainted. Thank you very much, Christmas-and Annie. I am all right again." An irresistible impulse to obtain pen and paper came upon her, and she made her way a trifle feebly to the desk. Hardly had she seated herself before it when the pen all but leaped from her fingers. She controlled it, and then saw these words spin out behind it:

"Good-by, Laura. row, call on Editha."

THE END.

In pain and sor

APPROACH this

I subject of the

Santiago campaign with awe, since the ablest correspondents in the country were all there, and they wore out leadpencils most industriously. I know I cannot add to the facts, but I remember my own emotions, which were numerous, interesting, and, on the whole, not pleasant. I am as yet unable to decide whether sleeping in a mud-puddle, the confinement of a troop-ship, or being shot at is the worst. They are all irritating, and when done on an empty stomach, with the object of improving one's mind, they are extravagantly expensive. However, they satisfied a life of longing to see men do the greatest thing which men are called on to do.

THE BIGGEST THING IN SHAFTER'S ARMY WAS

MY PACK."

The creation of things by men in time of peace is of every consequence, but it does not bring forth the tumultuous energy which accompanies the destruction of things by men in war. He who has not seen war only half comprehends the possibilities of his race. Having thought of this thing before, I got a correspondent's pass, and ensconced myself with General Shafter's army at Tampa.

When Hobson put the cork in Cervera's bottle, it became necessary to send the troops at once, and then came the first shock of the war to me. It was in the form of an order to dismount two squadrons of each regiment of cavalry and send them on foot. This misuse of cavalry was compelled by the national necessities, for there was not at that time sufficient volunteer infantry equipped and in readiness for the field. It is without doubt that our ten regiments of cavalry are the most perfect things of all Uncle Sam's public institutions. More good

honest work has gone into them, more enthusiasm, more intelligence, and they have shown more results, not excepting the new navy or the postal system.

The fires of hatred burned within me. I was nearly overcome by a desire to “go off the reservation." I wanted to damn some official, or all officialism, or so much thereof as might be necessary. I knew that the cavalry officers were to a man disgusted, and thought they had been misused and abused. They recognized it as a blow at their arm, a jealous, wicked, and ignorant stab. Besides, the interest of my own art required a cavalry charge.

General Miles appeared at Tampa about that time, and I edged around toward him, and threw out my "point." It is necessary to attack General Miles with great care and understanding, if one expects any success. 'General, I wonder who is responsible for this order dismounting the cavalry?" I ventured.

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I think the "old man " could almost see me coming, for he looked up from the reading of a note, and in a quiet manner, which is habitual with him, said, "Why, don't they want to go?" and he had me flat on the ground.

"Oh yes, of course! They are crazy to go! They would go if they had to walk on their hands!" I said, and departed. A soldier who did not want to go to Cuba would be like a fire which would not burn - useless entirely. So no one got cursed for that business; but it is a pity that our nation finds it necessary to send cavalry to war on foot. It would be no worse if some day it should conclude to mount "bluejackets" for cavalry purposes, though doubtless the "bluejackets" would "sit tight." But where is the use of specialization? One might as well ask the nurse-girl to curry the family horse.

So the transports gathered to Port Tampa, and the troops got on board, and the correspondents sallied down to their quarters, and then came a wait. A Spanish war-ship had loomed across the night of some watch-on-deck down off the Cuban coast. Telegrams flew from Washington to stop where you are." The mules and