THE WOMAN OF THE IRON BRACELETS.

Press, Volume LI, Issue 8727, 24 February 1894, Page 2

THE WOMAN OF THE IRON BRACELETS.

Br Fraxk- Barrett.

(Continued from last Saturday.) CHAPTER XXXIX. —Mary Beveals the Skcrst of Lavtson's Poaveb to .• -Me. ■•■ • ....... "Well, my boy," said I, taking St. John's arm as we crossed the lawn, ''what shall you do nowt" "Wbat I should bare done before—go away and leave poor Mary in peace. But if she is in danger,*' he exclaimed, stopping short at the reflection.

"There is no dancer that you can avert, Hal. Indeed, I believe ebe is safer now than sb c has been at any time since—since that affair. A man came fishing about here for information a short while ago; bat I threw him off the scent, and I've seen no more of him—which would not be the case had the pursuit not been abandoned. No, my dear fellow, you can do nothing for her."

" Esceot leave her. What an utterly selfish hound I have shovrn myself! Tomorrow I'll go. lam too uninanued just now for any definite action, bat you shall Mc mc once more, doctor, before I leave for good, and you shall find that I am uay own master again-—with some remnant of decent stuff in mc."

With that he grasped my band,*nd then strode away, going out into Mill lane by the side s:a.tc. As 1 turned about to so ■ >ack to Mary, .Morton faced mc, coming from the side walk.

" I bs£ your pardon, sir, may I speak to you a word in private, sir?" "Speak out my man—we are alone here."

" It's lika this, if you please sir." Bein" in the ysud a rubbiu , down of the pony, about'half a, hoar ago, Mr Lawsoa pare mc this letter, sir " —ho produced a letter and a haJf-crown—" with this piece of silver askia* mc to deliver his note to Miss Smith uuknown to you; but as I value a good master too 'igbly to do anything mean or underhanded, I wish to give up the same to you, sir—and I was a lookla' for you, sir, when you discovered mc ac Miss Smith's door a listeniu* to distinguish if you was in there, air—which bein , found there in that position rather upset mc, and I couldn't explain my object there for fear of Miss Smith liearin* and takiu* a dislike to vie, which both Haane and mc has always done our best to avoid."

I think he would have run with this interminable sentence for ten minutes had I not stopped him by taking the letter, bidding him keep the half-crown for bis honesty, and sending him off. I wish to thiuk the best I can of my man, but I somewhat; fear that had I not discovered him listening at Marj's door I should have heard nothing from him of the letter.

Going into the house, I found Mary the music by the piano, witQ the evident purpose of diverting her ihoughcs from uselessly brooding over the happiness that was iost to hsr; but her pour eyes showed how hard that trial was, even with the support of her courageous heart and dauntless purpose. She came into tny arm a with a Hfctle moaning cry, and there she wept for some minutes, abandoning herself to the emotions under the unnerving influence of sympathy. But; it was noc for long; brushing away her tears impatiently, she exelaimud iv a broken voice—

*' Oh, if I could end it all at once I —if I had something Co do that would take mc out of myself. It; seems so long. And yet it is not really. The end cannot be far distant. I should have told him about Olive —but I cuuidn'c think of her then. Iβ he coming back ?" "l?es, he will come again. He promised mc that.. But he will go away tomorrow."

"No, no. He must not go without Olive. We must get her SLWity onca more. He matt know her peril. If I had told him it might have aroused him to do his duty." "My dear, what could he do?" I asked deprecatingly. "What could he do?" she echoed with returning spirit, and clenching her hands —" What 1 would do if I were a man — what he will do when he is himself again." "Well, Mary, I feel sure that he will have recovered hia self-commaod by the time he comes to wish us farewell. He will show us a manly face again, I warrant, if only for your sake, and that before nightfall. Meanwhile," I added, feeling Lawson's letter as I dropped my hand into my pocket, "ifc is advisable, perhaps, that jyou should know a fact which may affect; your design—l have strong reasons to suspect that Morton has been eavesdropping, and heard what passed between you and Hal. " Has he ?" she exclaimed eagerly. '•We couldn't have wished anything better." I could not exactly see this, but I Rave her Lawson's letter telling her of Morton's excuse. She broke the envelope, quietly listening to mc, and having glanced at the letter, exclaimed softly, " The very thing." "Is there any new development that you can tell mc about?" I asked, glancing inquiringly at the letter in her haad. "Oh, there is nothing in that, but the usual nauseous stuff about the meeting I promised to give him to-night." "Ah, you intend to see him this evening?" She smiled—" Well, you shall see my answer," she said, sitting down at the writing table and taking up a pen. In a few minutes she' had dashed off a couple of pages., whiph she handed, still wet, to mc. " Dearest Mr Lawson," she wrote, " it is quite impossible that I should meet you this evening—indeed, I doubt if I shall ever see you 'again. Mr St. John has ireturned more violent than ever in his pro testafclons. I have done all I can to discourage, even telling him damaging stories about my past life to damp his ardour. But he will not take a refusal, although Br. Harvey, I know, has done all in his power to dissuade him. He has insisted on my taking time for consideration, and will return again (this evening, I think) for an answer. I don't know what to do —my position is most embarrassing. Dr. Harvey has something more than a suspicion of our clandestine interviews, and objects mosfe strongly to ray corresponding with you." I grunted acquiescence at this point. " What should I do if he discharged mc for disobedience like any other paid servant? Positively in my own interests (and I am a little Jbit worldly, you know) 1 think I ought to accept Mr St. John; Aud lam moved by something more than worldly conditions—l cannot help feeling for him—he Is so earnest, so willing to forgive all my .faults, and so submissive, that I think he'would make a very industrious aud obedient husband. You would really pity him if you could see how his handsome face is wasted with anxiety. At any rate, you must pity mc, and if you never see mc again pray believe that I shall always think of you as a very dear friend. "M." " Now," said she, as I handed back her letter, "may I scad Morton with tnis?" " Certainly." " Lat mc see, what excuse can I make ? Oα, yes, I want some silk from Mrs Harrisons', at Ightharn." This pretext was invented by her quick imagination as she addressed the envelope. " Wait," she ' added, pausing Iα the act of folding her letter, "you surprised Morton at the door before Mr St. John had left mc.

"Yes." "Then he couldn't have heard the last word. Are nay eyes very red ?" " You look as though you had been crying, nay dear child." "I must add a postscript to explain that. Mr LawHon w 11 certainly cross-examine Morton closely."

" 1 have had a dreadful scene with Dr. Harvey," she wrote at the foot of the page, "in consequence of your letter, which. Morton foolishly gave up to him. Happily he did not open it; but if he had he could not bo more violently incensed Chan he is. It is intolerable. I will not endure this another day. You will know what has become of mc if you see mc no more." She enclosed the letter, slipped it in her pocket, then taking a piece of embroidery from her wbrkbasket, she asked mc where she should find Morton. 1 told her that he was i a the orchard house.

"Then now to make that poor man shake in his shoes," said she, with a faint smile; but as she crossed the lawn with the work in her hand, and every movement of her body was expressive of violent anger. ■ - _ " What au acfcresa she would have been !" I said to myself, a$ I looked after her; but I ought to have said, " Wbat an actress she is," for even then I found it difficult to realise which washer natural and which her assumed character.

I was in the garden when Morton returned about an hoar later. Ha came directly up to mc, carrying a small parcel with every appearance of honesty ia his manner.

"Heie la the silk, sir, as Miss Smith sent mc for to purchase at Mrs Harrison's." "Take it indoors to Miss Smith," I growled, disgusted with the fellow's double-dealing, for I knevr well enough that lie had been to the Court. But this surliness of mine chimed in very well with Mary's plans. I was not in error; Mary showed mc the corner of a letter with a gesture counselling silence as Morton left the room, after taking the covers from the lunch table. For the sake of prudence I said nothing upon this subject then, bat I could see that Mary was highly excited, and that her thought was absorbed in tht, stratagem she had in hand, and this fired my curiosity considerably, for I felt myself still groping in the dark. As soon as he had finished his meal I set Morton to work on a long job in the orchard-house, and then, findiug Mary in her room, 1 clceed the door, seated myself, and Raid:

"Now, my dear, I want you to tell mc all about it."

"Ah I" said she,; raising her eyebrows with a little smile, at my simplicity, I believe, in thinking that I was to gee at her secret so easily. "You have received an answer from Lawaon to your letter?"

"Ye 3, a most satisfactory answer," she replied. " Just what I wanted." v Well, ilnrj, I should like to Mβ that letter, if you please." She smiled again; then shaking her bead, ahtaaU:-

■ ■ I am afraid I cannot do that just now; out yon shall see it." " Wheal"

ic "Mary," %aid I reproachfully, I think, «*Jf I no claim on your confidence ? " All that affection can Rive." she replied Impulsively, coming to my side and putting her arm about my neck. "But for the very reason that you love mc «o, f dare not tell you all that is in my mind— ior the reason, dear, that has made us hide our design from Mr St. John. You would not help mc do what I have cot to do, because you lore mc more than 1 love myself. At the last- moment you might overthrow all that I have been building up so carefully, and leave mc nothing but tue ruins of a castle in the air." Certainly, I wrould do nothing to help you sacrifice your own happiness." "My own happiness 1 Why, th'i* w the one great chance of securing it. "When I thinic of poor wretches who hare to end their lireg in prison, as I may have to end mi.ae, I fnncy that their mUery would be lessened if they could say, ' I did one good thing ia my lifa, out in the world there. Someone is better/or it—someone thiuks kindly of mc now and then.' " That well remembered look of trastic resignation cauie back to her face as she saw herself perhaps a prisoner with nothing bat this poor consolation to lighten the burden of a hopeless life. I could find nothing chserf-.il to say ; but she, throwing olTitlf gioatny forebodings aud rising by the mere buoyancy of her disposition above these overwhelming aaid, turning to mc whh a smile — '* Why go half w.iy to meet troubles that snay never come ? lam freo now, and may take advantage of my liberty." And thea she asked mc with a malicious twinkle in her pretty eyes if there was anything else she could tell mc. " Why, my dear," sai;l Ij "you have told mc nothing as yet. Bat for all that I begin to see whither your scheme is leading you. Tell mc only this—in one word, Mary—Do you intend to meet Lawsou again?" " Yes," she answered; "this evening." "For Heaven's sake have some care for yourself," I implored. "I have always this"—she tapped her pocket—" my friend in need." " There's little to fear from the personal violence of such a wretch as Lawson ; but the subtlest means that he employs—are yon proof against them 9" "If I were not, ie would be too late now to warn mc. Oh, those subtler means! He has tried them often enough to know thaifethey are useless." ".You have some—some counterspell," I said, scratching uay ear and making a wry face—for even , now I could not believe without compunction in a man of this age practising wiichcrafr. "Yes," aaid she, lavishing nt my grimace, " the counicrspell of perfect health. You do uofc think I ftui an hysterical subject, do you, doctor ?" "No, my dear, thank Heaven. But what has that to do with it ?" "Everything," said she, opening her desk, and takiug oub a book that I recognised at once. "You must read this co know how completely a man may control the actions of hysterical women," she added, putting the book in my hands. It was the work on Animal Magnetism by Alfred Binet and Charles Pere. A year ago I would have refused to read a line of it, as I would a treatise on spirit-rapping or table-turning, or any other contemptible means by which rogues gull fools; nut I felt now that if I could swallcw witchcraft I had no right to be sceptical upon anything; sol opened the baok and glanced at a page as 1 said :— "I remember now—thia is the volume you hid so quickly the day Lawaon called."

" Yes. Hβ knows the look of that book only too well; and if he suspected ihatl knew all it has taught me—ah, there would be very little hope for Mrs La.wson and poor Olive." "Are there no limits to the power of that extraordinary man ?* I murmured, aa I read. "He is not an extraordinary mnn," she protested. "Only a commonplace trickster with no powers that a quite ordinary man may possess." But by this time 1 was too interested in the page before mc to make any response.

CHAPTER XL.—ln Which I am Lift Desolatk.

I read in silence for quite half aa hour while Mary was quietly occupied in nrrang ing some papers taken from her desk; then looking up I said: "Well, ray dear, thia is nob at all the sort of thing I expected. It seemsi to be the honest work of conscientious men of, science bent not upon advancing their own theory, but on compiling a series of facta to which every te%t that ingenuity can device has been applied with a view to providing trustworthy data for the proper investigation of a most remarkable subject. Certainly these facts go far to prove that by mechanical and other meant susceptible subjects may be rendered absolutely obedient to the will of the operator. Bui: do they prove that all which seems to mc unaccountable in the conduct of these poor women at the Court is to be explained by Lawson's influence over them?"

"All," she. said, seating herself -by my side and baking up the book I had laid down. " See," she continued, taking from between, the last pages a strip of paper on which she had written some notes. Here aye the dates of events that have occurred with the pages of this book iv which similar incidents are to be found. Shall we compare them ?" " By all means,■ my dear. Let us begin with the last extraordinary exhibition of Olive's perversity. You admit that Lawson for his own ends—to avoid a scene of jealousy which you profess to fear—had removed his influence from her. In fact-, we saw her here in a normal condition. Now, how could he so renew his power over her as to make her return to ffee Court from which she had fled with such eager hope ?" " . " By suggestion." " But he never said a word to her, did not lay a finger on her: they only saw each other as he passed through the booking office." " That wa.» on October 14th; 364," said I Mary, aud turning to the page, she read.: " * The hypnotic sleep, which is produced with so much difficulty and delay iv fresh subjects, occurs with alarming rapidity in ' those who have been long under treatment. Some of our subjects are hypnotised at once by a single abrupt gesture; and this may be effected in all places alike, and at any hour of the day. I? we meet one of these subjects crossing thti courtyard an exclamation or abrupt gesture will cause her to stop short and become motionless in catalepsy. The hypnotic sleep may therefore be:, produced and brought to an end in an extremely short time—we might , even iay during the passage from one door to another. This Sβ a s/mewhat important fact fre m the medico-legal point of view. And, Dgain, a suggestion may be Riven in a sleep o£ very short duration. We liaveobaerv.ed that in the course of fifteen seconds we could throw a subject into a lethargy, then into somnambulism, suggest an aci, and thiin awake him. It is therefore possible that an individual might make use of the fifteen seconds in which he found himsulf alone with a susceptible '-subject) to inculcate an idea, a hallucination, or an impulse. We most hoc rely on a question of time in maintaining the impossibility of ; such a feat, since the time required to hypnotise and suggest to a habitual subject of experiment U so extremely short.'" ■ ■-.-■ ..:-._.-- - - : ■ - :■ ; " That seems eohclueive, Indeed. Weil, cow, do your facts account for Mrs Lairson's inability to write her own name?" Mary referred to her notes, and, finding the page indicated, read-: : "'Give to a subjeqt a suggestion of agraphia, and when she awakes examine her right hand. It is easily ascertained that the power of bending and extending the fingers remains—although these movements are largely employed in the act of writing—so that the individual movement is not lost, but the possibility of co-ordin-ating these movements so as to accomplish a certain act. Another instance throws a still stronger light on this fact. Deprive a hypnotised subject of the power of writing the word "not," and she will be able to, write at your -request any other words, even those which contain tl* letters n-o-t, which proved that she bus not lo3t the power of writing these letter* separately, but the pawer of combining them. Systematic paralysis therefore consists in a disturbance of motor ordin- ! ation. , ** _ , .-. : ;: ': . ... ;: ' " That is it, Mary. I had settled in my own mitid that it was some form of mental paralysis. And it it can be produced In this form, which the writer calls agraphia, it is easy to see now Olive couli be transfixed at Lawwm's wtfJ." . *■ "Oh, there are many instances of thiit " We'll take that. Tor granted. Welt, well! Of course Olive did not parloin the will. Lawson must have found out the secret place where it was kept." I ] " His subjects can keep no secrets from j him. Revealing ."accrete is quite a common thing in ordinary somnambulism* ! At echoolthere was agirl who in her sleep j told all that sh* Wished to keep hidden; yet on waking belie Ted them still her oWn secrets." ■ ■' ■ -•■' '■;. ! '. . '. > ' ; '

"Ahl you knew something about this •object then, before——" "A good deal/* she answered with a eigh. ; " 1C wm that knowledge which led you to Buspecb Lawson's practices ? " She assented by a silent inclination of her head as she beat over the book.

" I read one instance there," 1 continued, "of a woman, by mere suggestion, imagining that a serpent lay at her feet. Weli. if that can be done, it ia not difficult to understand how Lawson can make Bis fnibji;cc-i love him or hata each other or us at bis pleasure." bhe nodded ascain and read aloud : ' " Is ia possible to suggest to a subject in a state of somnambulism, fixed ideas, irresistible impulses, which be, will obey on awakening with mathematical * "precision. The subject niay be induced to write down promisee, recognition of debts, adtni*sious and expressions by which he may be grievously wronged. If arras are given to him he may also be induced to commie any crime which is prompted by the experimenter. We could cite several act* to say the least unseemly, committed by hysterical patients, which were crimes in miniature performed by an unconscious subject, instigated by one who was really guilty. and who remained unknown. At the Salpetriere a paper knife has often been oressed in the hands of a hypnotic subject, who is told it is a dagger, with which he ia ordered to murder one of the persona present. Oα awakening, the patient hovers round her victim, and suddenly strikes him with such violence that I thin tit well to refrain from such experiments. These facts show that the hypnotic subject may become the instrument of a terrible crime, more terrible immediately ifrer the act is accomplished all may be forgotten—crime, the impulse, and its instigator. Some of the more dangerous of these suggested acts should be noted. These impulses may give rise to crimes or offences of which the nature is infinitely varied, but which retain the almost constant character a conscious irresistible impulse—that is, ulthongh the subject h quite himself and ouscious of his identity, he catiuot resist the force which impels him to perform an act witch he would under other circumstances condemn.' Hurried on by this irresistible force, the subject feels none of the doubts and hesitations of a criminal who acts epjMtaneously. He behaves with a tranquilicy aud security whiau would in such acaseensure the success ofnia crime." Cloting the book as she rose, Mary added, " Whac awful crime might he not have led Oiive to commit, if he had not been less cowardly? What crime might he not lead her to now it desperation gayu him courage ?"

S'j- returned to her occupation, Jind I tool; i. he book in ho ruy own room co study the subjacb still further. The more I read, fche more fully convinced I becamu that Mrs Liwson and Olire were the subjects of Lkwsom's mesmeric ir.fln°t>ce t ami the more fully persuaded that they were noc to beextrlcated from their perilous position by any legal process—which, indeed, if attempted mighc only precipitate the catastrophe Mary had hinted at. It was about five o'clock when Morton brought mc a telegram from Mrs Salby at Shipbourne, begging mc to come immediately, as her daughter had been thrown from her horee and was seriously injured. I ordered the pony to be put iv at once, selected the instruments that might be necessary, and called on Mary as I hastily slipped on my coat; in the hall. She answered from the head of the stair:;:

" I am dressing—do you want mc 1" " No, my dear, I only wish to say fchab I may be late for dinner. I have to go over to Shipbourne at once." "Very well," she replied, "I will give Anne instructions." Bess was'harnessed and in the trap by the time I reached the yard, for no one could be more expeditious than Morton in time of ceed, and I started off without a moment's delay. It is a hilly road from Wrotham to Shipbourne, and the church clock was striking six as I pulled up at Mrs Selby's house. " Well.-my good girl, how's your young mistress now ?" I asked of the servant who came to the door.

*' Lor, sir, I don't know," she answered with a broad grin, " Miss Edith ain't come in yet." At this moment Mrs Selby herself came from the drawing-room with a look of surprise on her face. "Your daughter, ma'am," eaid I, "ie less seriously hurt than you thought, I hope V "My daughter hert—l really do nofc understand you, Dr. Harvey." I put the telegram in her hand with a feeling of irritation. She read it, and shaking her head said : It can't be Edith, for she has only been gone ten minutes, and not on horseback. This must be some cruel practical joke," she added clearly enjoying it, though she tried to look serious. But I dia not laugh, as I should, I think, even at my own expense in finding myself victimised by a little pleasantry. It seemed to mc that this trick covered some sinister design, and never in my life bad I plied my whip asldid in urging Bess homewards. With a foreboding of the truth. I asked for Mary the moment I entered the house. "She went out about ten minutes after you leit, sir," said Morton, "and she has not returned."

My heart sank with this verification of ray fears; and yet I prayed that all I dreaded might not. be realised; but a packet on my table crushed even that faint hope. It was addressed to mc; and contained the papers I had seen Mary arranging in the afternoon. To them was penned this brief note, in her writing :— " These are mil the letters I have received from Mr Lawaoa. When you read the last you will know what has become of mc. You will show them to Mr St. John, and conceal nothing from him, that he may take what steps are necessary for the protection of hist mother and sister." I turned to Lawson's last letter—tne one she had received thi* morning, and declined to show mc then. Discarding the equivocal phrases with which he . had thinly veiled his sentiments in former letters, he made in this an open avowal of love to Mary, and a proposal which admitted of no double interpretation. After a couple of pages of nauseous rodomontade description of his tortured feelings, his distraction, his unconquerable passion, and such matters, he appealed to her compassionate heart (and sub rosa, to her cupidity), and came to the point in these words—

"I offer myself to you, an your slave, your creature. Do with mc what you will. All that I have is yours—my fortune, my heart, and the devotion and obedience of* do?. You shall form no wish that I will not gratify. Give no command that I will disobey. You cannot doubt my love, but you may question my constancy. Yet to remove Urn last objection 1 will assure your perpetual supremacy*'—(Lord, what word<!!)—" by riveting a fetter upon my neck iVhich shall place mc for ever at your mercy. In a word, 1 will go through the ceremony of marriage with you that you may have ifc in your power to punish ma for infidelity to you by bringing mc to justice for this crime of bigamy. I will find means to take Dr. Harvey out of the neighbourhood about five o clock this c yon log and will call shortly after to know your decision." The blow was not unexpected, but it stunned mc nevertheless. I had seen no way of saving Olive and her mother except br means simitar to these. Yet, to think of Miry giving herself up body and soul to this vile wretch, even in such a cause, was revolting and still almost incredible. Assuredly, if I had seen this letter I should never have consented to so terrible * sacrifice. No! rather in the face of any consequence that might eusne, I would have made known to Lawson my knowledge of hia infamous dcaisna, and tasen menstfres to prevent Mary completing her own destruction. I eat for some time with the packet before mc, in a state of bewilderment and supine helplessness; and then mechanically, took up Mary's note and read it through again. What was it in these few lines that chilled mc? I could not expect her to od*er an excuse for doing what «he felt must be done. Though her judgnaent was at fault 'for taking this course, »he was clearly not culpable in acting in accordance with her principle fend sense of right. Nor was it in her nature to cry up her own heroism and dilate upon the sentiments of feeling that had led her on to this final act of aelf-ltnmolation. She was too honest —too English—to gush in * Wertberian spirit. To Write briefly on such a subject was to write well. No; it was not the brevity of the note that wounded mc, but a certain heartlessness in adding no word of farewell, no kind word to comfort mc in the desolation that she matt have known I should feel at losing her. And now I recollected that she bad shown no sign of regret in making her preparations for departure—there «raa no, clinging tenderness in her manner such as roost of us feel In separating for ever from those we love. She bad not even run down to bid mc nood-bye when I went out. "To be "sure," I said to myself, "ehe would have betrayed her intention by doing that; aud in sueu <t tremendous crUis everything must have been mad* subservient in her mind to that one end."

Jast then Morton came in to tell mc that dinner was served*, " Did Hbs Smith take any luggage with

her? " i asked aa iitdirtVsrently a» I «oul>l. "No, sir, only au 'and bag, air. Wat,"drawincc a little closer and Jowerine his voice, "as Hannie was a tldyhiK up Miss Smith's room aha ptckod up this, whicU Miss Smith most have dropped in the way of dressing. ,. Hi took an old silver nobie from hi* pocket and pat It iv my hand. " Very «ood, Morton; you cmi take the

covers." But it was long before! conid Gun the heart to go into the nexc room for ihe farce of pretending to eat. I sat there, with Mary's note in one haud aud that old ail ver piece in the other, looking from ouo to ihe other stupidly. I recojjai".ed the noble. It was from a collection of ancient coins that I had aiuaesed and kept in a drawer ot my desk. The key of i hat desk'l had eutruntud to Mary; but the key of ihe corner cabinet fltn the lock, and "to be convinced that I was not deceiving myself I opsned the desk and examined its conteats. All tho coins were gone, aud Hie drawer in which we kepc oar loose caih was perfectly eniDty. Those coins were worth five or ten pounds at the mosu, and she had thought it worth while to take them ac the last moment.

"What a strange compound of great virtues, of little faults," I meditated. "Of high principles and maßaanimous purpose on the one hand; of petty weakness ou tho other. Of warm aud geuerou? impulse, and of cold calculation and heartless iudiiference. Well, I sappoae there are anomalies in every diameter to those who eea them, as 1 see hers, from outside. , *

And ho putting the papers ia my desk and turning the key, I crawled into the fitting-room with a sick heart, that I might get through my meul before St. John came; and still leas palatable matter had to bi discussed. (To be continued.)