I SlIjohnwi? JEAN [COPTBIQHT, EOEEET BC . / CHAPTER XII. (Continued.) 4lYes," said Jessica, lazily. "I am lways pleased to go with Mamma iWlnthrop. Jack." "But thee does not comprehend, John," his mother said, softly. "Thee, nor Jessica. Only for a few things I went, and Jessica was reading. Had I not attempted crossing the street. I Would have met with no adventure. But this young girl who saved me ?? "A young girl, you say. mother?" John Winthrop interrupted, earnestly, some strange thought deepening the pallor in his face. Mrs. Winthrop smiled indulgently upon her son. "I think thee would call her a young girl, John," she said, "and very sweet !n the face. But gray eyes she had that turned to black in her speaking. ; Slender and good to look upon, and sweetly spoken?until then." "And when she turned away she j said?what was it she said, mother?" "Why should thee strive to remem-, ber her words, John, my dear? She was wicked in her hatred, or she could not have uttered them. Could she truly know thee she would not so have spoken." "But she said, mother?" "She said," Mrs. Wlnthrop's eyes were troubled, looking upon her son across the dainty table, "to tell thee that had she known whom she was saving she would no* have lifted her band for me. She said that thee would know. She mistook thee, John. She ' could not have meant my son." "And her name, mother?" "Her name is Beatrice, John?a pleasant name?Beatrice Field." "AlecJa Graham's sister, she said?" I, "Yes. John." i "And from New York?" "From New York?yes, John. But why will thee think on these words of a willful heart " "She was slender and dark, with brown hair and gray eyes?" "Uray eyes, joim, mat turned to black in speaking, and brown hair that curled upon her forehead; and slender?yes, John." John Wintbrop frowned heavily as be mechanically pushed away his j plate, liis eyes bent upon the snowy cloth, not daring to meet his mother's loving eyes. "Thank God!" he muttered. "At least it was not she!" CHAPTER XIII. A TACE IN THE CBOWD. ' Miss Jessica Gray, John TVinthrop's ward, was left an orphan with a fair fortune in money and beauty at fifteen. For three years she had been affectionately cared for in the pleasant Quaker homestead among the Berkshire Hills, growing in character, perl> Aaa m ? r>lt n nftAW /\ f lvu uiui.ii unci li-ie uiuuuui ui the wild flowers there?so many flowers, so many weeds crowded together Indiscriminately. The lurking fire under the indifference of her manner might some day burn that which should awaken it. In the quiet home among the New JEugland Berkshires with gentle Mrs. ?iYlntbrop for companion, her fiercer nature slept. Occasionally she roused itnd brightened, surprising even herself with her brilliance; but these rare occasions were only when John Winthrop was at home. Still she did not pause to analyze this change in herself any more than she would have analyzed a change more marked in any other. She was too indolent to question the causes of life. Life itself was good; rather stupid at times, too animal l'ke, but worth living. < So that it was not until that morn- i lng of the adventure in front of the | "Belie Jardiniere" that Jessica Grey was -oused to be more than a passionate w wnan unawakened. She had never bef re oeen conscious of the heart that tinged her blocd to the brilliant, intense degree of Beatrice Field. But this moruing the smouldering fire in her blood btgau to lift and glow, perhaps heralding?who knows?a craterous outbreaking like the destroying fires of Aetna or Vesuvius. "I beg your pardon, Jack," she said, smoothly, the waking demon lurking in the darkening eyes, "but sometimes T o m m AKA 1 Ann! *? A TA nn I? iUrtnA 11 1 x 5 word of acquiescence or do- I nlaL "But?we will see!" murmured Miss ' Jessica, lounging among the cushions e? their carriage as they drove along the Champ Elysees that afternoon, the pale blue cushions harmonizing with her own pale beauty, so that many eyes were turned upon ner rrorn pass- t iug carriages, sitting so carelessly op- j posite the sweet old Quaker woman | with her placid face; the strong face of the man beside her strangely out of place, as though two fires of ill were set beside some mightly calm. "We can wait, my dear guardian, If so we will learn; and then " "I did not think," John was saying in quiet amusement, as he assisted his i mother and ward to alight at their door, "that my ward was such a charming woman. Of course, being a [ woman, you did not fail to note the , admiration bestowed upon you this afternoon, Jessica. Allow we to congratulate you." "You are kind," she said, languidly, "to compliment me so prettily, Jack. I thank you." j ; But, down in her heart, 6he had learned that It was only this one man whom she cared to please. She could not know, however, though ( she shrewdlv cuessed. how the words of Beatrice Field rankled in John Winthrop's mind, cutting deep into the tisanes of his heart, sorely wounding his soul. Yet even now he would not yield to the memory of Alecia's face and violet eyes and uplifted head as she stood before him pleading for her husband. All these thoughts were come back to him, sitting in his room after the house was quiet. He could not sleep or rest with those even, violet eyes , and that proud, beautiful face, alive with smiling, intruding upon his stern determination to forget her. Every movement, every look, even every fold of her gown, returned to him more and more obstinately as he fought against them. "Well," he exclaimed, "why should I ' so torment myself about her. Shall i I admit that she has power to keep bl'^p from my eyes? I am weary . enough, heaven knows, and 1 have done her no wrong. She shall not haunt me like an unrestful ghost, for some murderous deed! I will sleep, Alecia Graham, in spite of your eyes or smile! You return home to-morrow, I understand, and so will not prnsa mv nath for many days?perhaps never!" And he resolutely went to bed and closed his eyes and slept by very force of will, crowding down his heart. But, strange contradiction of life, if ao he trampled on his heart, calling it absurdity, why was it that he, among many others, haunted the station at St Lazare. when he knew that the one woman who held power to rouse = his soul for his defeat was there to tako the train to Dieppe and so to Liverpool and?home! Strange Imbecility of the human heart, that moth-like, haunts the candle's flame! Strange magnetism of the Juggernaut wheels of fate, drawing in and under the souls to be tried through the mills of life, and ground flne and sifted! But did John Winthrop dream that through the gay crowds and among so many faces one slender figure followed him, and one fair face never deviated frnm Its nnrnnfip. or the brieht eves lose him from among the waiting pasBongers? "Oh, but I could learn to hate you, John Wintlirop!" murmured the slender, watching woman, her eyes singling out his face always among the many. "How I could hate you?because of her!" And her ears, alert, heard, scarcely heeding the words arcund her; but a few out of these remaining in her memory, and her memory was good! "Foolish Dick!" murmured a soft voice. A girl with brown eyes and hair and a charming face was standin't Flatulence. Sou: Stomach, Nause^ . Bick Headac'/i^.Gastialgia,Cramp8,ana all other results of impei tectdigestfci* r Prepared by E 'Vvmju >.(:<>.. Cblca|? "t i i Skin Diseases. d For the speedy and permanent core of tetter, salt rheum and eczema, Chaui5" berlain's Eye and Skin Ointment is l* without an eqnal. It relieves the itche ng and smarting almost instantly and ), ;ts continued use effects a permanent :ure. It also cures itch, barber's itch, CPf)l f\ CAro n irvrilno *w"v4? ibuutu^ ^uco, chapped hands, chronic sore eyes and _ granulated lids. h Dr. Cady's Condition Ponders for :d horses are the best tonic, blood purifier and vermifuge Price, 9-5c?nta Soldhy M6TON