The Merthyr Express

FOR MATRON AND MAID. THE WAVERING MIND. It might be supposed that one need never I bother about trifling details of character, that indecision in trivial affairs, for instance, could matter but little one way or the other, that the luxury of wavering might be permitted in unimportant affair*, ljut there is the weakness or jt all. If the decisive ability i' unacquired in lesser interests, the mind is not ready train- ed to act when something great looms before us, and we must act or be swamped. If we have been drifting along, struggling us. and we must act or be swamped. If we have been drifting along, struggling in the quagmire of indecision, the spectacle of one firm active figure standing on the sure ground of self-reliance and independence born of ready decision should be sufficient to lure anyone on to fairer heights. FRUITS FOR THE COMPLEXION. Certain articles of diet have a decided effect upon the complexion. A superabundance of pastries, rich foods and sweets make the skin yellow and unhealthy looking, and a woman j who lives upon such things is old long before her time i Every woman has it in her power to hasten or retard the process of growing old. Nearly everyone hastens it, and at the same time spoils her good looks by certain indiscretions at the table. Fruit of all kinds. is excellent for the com- pi-xion. The juice of fruit and its laxative nature help to keep the system clean inter- naD> and prevent the accumulation of worn- out matter, which, lodging in the skin, gives it an unwholesome appearance. FAGGED OUT. Why is it that there are so many fagged, spiritless, dowdy, middle-aged-looking women? Well, some of the causes are beyond woman's I control. Whert your first baby is delicate and the second one comes before the fir-t is out of your arms; when you are up at night and have no chance to rest in the day when you suf- for frequent pain and are wway* trying to pni; two financial ends together when they won't come within n foot of meeting; when hard-up times COTD", rv.vj ther* vre doctor's bills and anxiety and W2M,. days, you can hardly be expected to have- ihe phjf.ieai rebound and courage you had in your rrir'hood. Yet, in spite of all this, many could keep much of their youth and fro-shrsss by taking only a little care of their.Sf res. INDEPENDENT. Every woman who indulged in the scanty one-piece frock of linen and cloth during the viast. year, with their line of buttons straight ;io-,vr the front or ?Jightly to the side, realises co-nfor' ri dress and such a style of •"S.ST.C-NING.V She pa -oil M others wilJ rejoice in the fact that Fashion vll&xr* this to still stay in the front rank. The possessor of a dress of this description nan slip into such a fr-x-k in a moment's time, without trouble t<> herself or anyone else. She does not have to wait for anyone to "fasten her up." She can array herself. This in itself soothes the nerves and quiets the temper. DISARRANGED PLANS. It is a pity we cannot learn to refuse to be disappointed, that is, beyond the vague sha- dow that must, obtrude itself momentarily in the face of a door violently closed upon some special longing. It is doleful and depressing to view life I through dark-hued glasses because a cherished hope is unfulfilled or a favourite dream dis- polled. Disappointments are not half so bad if faced with a. smile instead of a frtnvn and a show of futile resistance. Generally they are not so serious as exaggerated notions make them ap- pear, and it is unwomanly to meet little de- feats or disarranged plans as if they were fatalities and we the veriest children. FIGHTING POINT. A woman who will entirely relax in a den- fist- chair cr under a physician who is causing temporary pain will find that nature eases the pain for her in gratitude. Tense, drawn, resisting muscles do not help one to bear anything. The first thought of a woman who is standing an unpleasant opera- tion on mouth, nose, or throat, is to grip the chair, hold on with the feet and strain every muscle in the body to fighting point. When her body thus resists pain she does not help the doctor, and she draws upon herself extra suffering from the sudden relaxation of mus- cles and nerves into their normal condition. This shock in itself is enough to make a wo- man hysterical. HINTS FOR THE HOIE. An Excellent Bleaching Fluid—Quarter of a pound of refined. borax to five gallons of water, powder the borax and dissolve-in boiling water. This fluid may be used for the most delicate linen or fabrics. Linsn Hints.—If the housewife who has not succeeded in getting just the right smooth I gloss on her collars and cuffs will try the fol- lowing she will find it splendid :—Mix and sift 1 drachm of powdered borax, 1 drachm of sper- macetti, 6 drachms of powdered french chalk. Use two tablespoonfuls of this mixture to 8 oz. of starch, and it will give a beautiful gloss to all linen. To Cure fuzzing Noises in Head and Ears. —The noise is often caused by a condition of catarrh in the nose. Probably there is stuffi- ness in the nose and ears. To relieve this, use a soothing antiseptic; spray thoroughly sev- eral times a day. If the head aches a sponge wrung out in boiluig water and applied to the nape of the, neck gives. great relief. A good plain diet should be taken. To Save Sugar —Less sugar is required to sweeten fruit tarts if this little hint is attend- ed to. • To an ordinary-sized pudding or tart made of rhubarb, gooseberries, currants, and other fruits, add as much carbonate of soda as piled up will cover a shilling; less will be required if the fruit is not very sour. This neutralises the acids without in the least af- feeling the flavour of the fruit, and thus saves ¡: much sugar. To Clean Marble Ornaments and Statues.— Take finely-powdered pumice-stone and mix with vinegar to a paste, lay this all over the marble, and leave it on for five or six hours; then brush it hard and wash it with warm water and curd soap till clean. Then, to give a polish, rub over with oxide of tin applied on a wet cloth. Should the article be stained, you can remove the stains by dipping a cloth in oxalic acid solution and passing it quickly over them; then wash in water to removo acid, and polish. CAKES AND PUDDINGS—No. 26. This cake is rich but easily digestible even by children. Sufficient for a 2 lb. cakft RICH RICE CAKE. 1 packet of Cakeoma. 6 ozs. of Butter. 6 Eggs. Half a teacupful of Ground Rice. A little Milk if jequired. METHOD. Rub the Cakeoma, ground rice. and butter together until quite fine. Beat the eggs and mix them lightly with the first ingredients, and observe if any milk is required; if eo, add a very little and complete the mixing, which should be thoroughly but lightly done. Bake in a rather warm oven. » ■■■ ■■ -yj- Next week a Rich Lunch Cake reoipe. Recipe book will be sent post free on request to Latham and Co., Ltd., Liverpool. Cakeoma is_ sold only in 3 £ <L packets by Grocers and Stores.

FOR THE YOUNG FOLKSJ CAN YOU LOCATE THESE QUOTATIONS? Some know their Bibles better than they know Shakespeare, and, yet, with some it would be true the other way about. In which book would you find these quotations, in the Bible or in a volume of Shakespeare's works? 1. The love of money is the root of. all evil. 2. Love not sleep, lest thou come to poverty. 3. Is there anything whereof it m%y be said, "See, this i's new?" 4. There's a special Providence in the fall of a sparrow. 5. The evil that men do lives after them. 6. My leanness, my leanness, woe unto me. 7. One touch of nature makes the whola world kin. 8. Stolen waters are sweet. 9. A friend loveth at all times. 10. Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile. 11. Like madness is the glory of this life. 12. Hope deferred maketb the heart sick. 13. He winketh with his eyes, he epeaketh with his feet. 14. Life's but a walking shadow. 15 Happy thou art not; for what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get. 16. A friend should bear bis friend's infirmi- ties. 17. I am escaped with the skin of my teeth. 18. A merry heart maketh a cheerful coun- tenance: 19. All things are ready if our minds be so. 20. The glory of young men is their strength. 21. What I will not, that I cannot do. 22 The world is but a word. 23. The light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun. 24. Two are better than one. because they have a good reward for their labour. 25. Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt. 26. Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep. 27. That men should put an enemy in their mouths to etcat their brains. 28. A man that hath friends must show himself friendly. 29. Rofiwo profane and o;d wives' fables. 30. The apprehension of the' good gives but the greater feeling to the worse.—"Ladies' Hoxng Journal. ..1

Y Farddoniaeth. Llyfrau Cymraeg i'w hadolygu, &c., i'w danfon l'r cyfeiriad canlynol: —Mr. E. T. John (leuan Dyied). "Glantaf. 33, Brvnheulog, Penydarren, Merthyr. .Ã\

"Y MWYA'¡ FAI," etc.—Ymadrodd diar*br' sydd yn llawn o wirionedd, a phennillion teilwnsr o'r testyn. Dywedir fod y negroaid bob amser I pan vn cwervia yn galw eu gilydd yn "d d niggers." "A f'o wr drwg a'i fryd ar wall, ofe a daera fod arall." CRIST YN TAWKUJ'R YSTORQM. Pennillion teilwng, a chyhoeddwn hwynt gyda boddhad, < pe dim ond er coffadwriaeth am yr awdwr ym- a,dawedig. "CARNELIA:S. "Deigryn" prydferth ar fedd em hen gyfaill serchus, diymhongar, a. di- ymffrost, "Carnelian." Chwith iawn oedd genym glywed am ei fa.rwolaoth, canys hoffem ef yn fawr Llawn oedd o Di, o hwyl, ac o ysmaidod gwledig a diniwed. DYFNALLT, Y DI-HTTNAN, etc.-Galla.sem dyb- icd mai oeisio cyrchu cynghanedd rywsut, ar antur, ydyw eich prif imcan yn y PmelJau hyn, heb falio botwm am synwyr, na gramadeg, na dim arall. Nid yw gwneyd peth feJly yn ad- lewyrchu unryw giod ar neb. Dylid gofalu am synwyr a chywirdeb iaith m-ewn cyfansoddiad yn anad dim. Os gwn-ewch yn weddol unwaith neu ddwy, dichon y tro n-esaf na fydd jrenych ddim ond chwaidod noeth. Os nad anyebwyil- edd sydd yn cyfrif am both fel 'byn, nis gwyddom pa beth arall sydd. BEUIXTAJ.'AFTH TBABTHAWD. Diolchwn i chwi am cais atom i gyhoeddi y feirniad- aeth yn y "Golofn." Posibl y cydsyniwn ryw- bryd, os caniata gofod. Rhy lawn ydym ar hyn o bryd i feddwl am ddim o'r fath. (; MARW'N TEYRN, IORWERTH VII. Arwed yw'r byd heb lorwerth—bar anwyl, E, in Brenin pur, cydnerth; Yntau aeth yn ei anterth, At ei wobr, er maint ei werth. Yn hyfwyn fab tangnefedd,—ein Teyrn A'n twr enwog, glanwedd; Aeth i lawr 'n ei gyflawn fawredd, Ac wyla byd wrth gil y bedd. Merthyr. R. G. o: DEIGRYN HIRAETH Ar o! y ffraeth-bort fardd "Carnel;an.'k Do, corne'vyr! "O.-vnelian"—i'w unig Anpedd. yn -raian; Mud yw'r slew p, mad wr glan, A'i ddi.cro^ ewWygan. Ein cenedl yn cwyno,—o golli Y di-g«Uwa;.r Gymro; Coir awen, hith.ni. yn crio 0 roi'i "'jrrs-od old man" o dan do. Huna bedd, fardd anwyl,—o dy boen: Da yw bedd iV perwyl; 'E ddaw yr awr dda a'r hwyl Cael brys-;o o'r cut breswyl. Ffarwel yn awr, "Carnejian,"—y gwron Rhagorol dy gyngan: I huno i fedd yn y fan Down ninnau-clyna ein hanian. Abercwmboi. ALAW SYLEN. o. AR WAWR Y DYDD. Af i'r maw yn liaw Ceridwen Ar wawr y dydd Yn ei chwrnni byddaf lawen Ar wawr y dydd; Densrys im" hardd wedd y blygain, A phi'.Ari dor y Dwyrain, A myrdd liwiau'r nefoedd firain Ar wawr y dydd. Dengys imi dlysni'r gwlithyn Ar wawr y dydd, A phob vn fel glpew berlyn Ar wawr y dydd. Yn ei fron ein Ilun hi ddengys, A mil wro-ichion eeithliw'r ehfyo, Pefra'r dolvdd ail brenhinllya Ar wawr y ciyaa. Yn ei chwmni clywaf fiwsig Ar wawr y dydd: Peraidd gerdcli cor y oedwÏg. Ar wawr y dydd. Clywaf dannau'r gwyrdd iaswelltyn Yn aw-elon m'wyn Mehefin, Ail angylaidd law ar delyn, Ar wawr y dydd. Dowlais. W. H. D. 0: "CRIST YN TAWELU'R YSTORM AR FOR TIBERIAS." Ar arehiad eu Hathraw cychwynodd Y deuddosr i fyned i'r mor, Tm'u calon mewn Salmau yifiblethodd Wrth wneuthur ewyllys eu Hior; Yr entrycb oedd glir, heb un cwmwl, A'r Nefoedci yii siriol uwchben: Tra mwyn'.ant vn llanw pob meddwl, Bygythiodd a duodd y nen. Ar For GaJiJea disgynodd Rhyw nerthosdd ofnadwy o wynt; Y tonau yn uchel ymgododd Ne« ysgwyd y llontr ar ei hynt; Disgyblion yr l'esu yn ebrwydd Mewn dvchryn godasant eu cri- "Ai difarer genyt, 0 Arglwydd, Ein colli yn nghanol y Hi'?" Yr. Iesu cariadiawn a gododd Fe-I Llywydd galluog y Dawr: I'r "etorom" ostegu gorch'mynodd, A'i allu a deimlwyd yn fawr; Y tonau cynddeiriog ostegodd Fel pe niown cywilydd bob UD, A'r corwynt hyf, nerthol, ddiflanocl4 Ar aninaid yr Iesu, 'r Duw-ddyn. Ti'r Cristion ar Iwybr dyledswydd Sy'n teithio anialwch y byd, Nac ofna. er evirdd. a mawr aflwydd- Yr un ydyw'r loesu o hyd; Gosbcga amheuon mynwesol, Rhydd heddweh a chysur i'r fron: Cei gyraodd y "Porthladd Dymunol," Er cymaint. yw ymchwydd y don. Y Diweddar THOMAS EVANS, Twynyrodyn. i — o: OCHR DYWELL "CYMRU FYDD." Beth. ydyw chwaeth ieuenctyd lion? Am betb maent yn breuddwydiol Yn ng-hwsg ac effro rhed eu bryd Ar gicio a dyrnodio; Rhagorach yw yr asyn dwi Na dyn mewn dawn i gioio; A beth yw dyn wrth fwystfil coed I ymladd a dyrnodio? Pan yr eisteddwn un prydnawn Mewn cadarn gerbyd teithio, D&eth nifer dda o "Gymru fydd" I mewn mewn dillad gweithio; Yn ffraeo'n ffyrnig 'roeddynt hwy, Mewn greiriau gwarad wyddus, Ynghylch ymladdfa freiniol iawn Desrfynodd mor druenus. 'Roedd hanes yr ymladdwyr fu Mewn uchel fri a mawredd: Pryd bu yr ymladd, a pba Ie, .1 gyd ar flaenau'u bysedd; Prin y gwyddent ddim ond hyny- Dyma'r spwrial heddyw sydd Yn ystorio oof a chalon Tyrfa fawr o "Gymru fydd." Pan byddo dau ymladdwr dewr Yn trefnu cwrdd a'u gilydd, Cyhoeddir hyp ar edyn mellt Trwy'r ddae&r benbwygilydd; Rhaid talu aur am fyn'd i mewn I'r tywysogaidd lefydd: Ondbeth yw byny am gaei gwel'd Dau ddyn yn dyrnu'u gilydd. (I b&rhau.) Caeraeca. WM. THOMAS. -:0:- "Y MWYA'I FAI PAROTA' I FEIO." Mwngloddiau gwerthfawr, llawn o swyD, Yw cyfoeth diarebol Gwalia, Ac awenyddiaeth ddaw yn fwyn I'w cwmnj, clifyr-gwyl antuxia; Ei Ilygad genfydd destyn can— Drwy'r oesau sydd yn cael ei wirio: Mae heddyw'n fyw, yn eirias dan— "Y mwya'i fai parota' i feio." Chwi lot wyr beiau, dyma had Trychfilod tlotaf y gym'dogaeth: Drwy ysbienddrych goreu'r wlad Yn unig gwalwch eu bodolaeth; Ond ni ra.id i chwi fod yn hir Cyn gweTd eu hamcan heb glustfeinio. Cewch brawf yn fuan mai yn wir "Y mwya'i fat parota' i feio." t Pabwyrod eiddil yw'r rhai hyn Yn byw o hyd ar bob aflendid Wei, hawddach yw g-wneyd du yn wyn, Neu rhaid cael gwyrth er eu cyfnewid; TaJentog fodau, bydd pob dawn 0 fewn eu penau'n Uechu'n gryno, A phan y crawciant, profion. gawn— "Y mwya'i fai parota' i feio. Mae'r clefyd melyn ar y dvn, A melyn yw pob peth a'wela: Ac nid oes neb ond ef ei hun All greu cyfferi at ei wella; MeddygOD craffus Cymru wen, Dewch, plygweh lun, ymgrymwch iddo; Gall hwn ddwyn gw&ed o gorph o bren- "Y mwya'i fai parota' i feio." Adwaenwn ieuanc ddyn ar dro, Mi wnaf fy Uw heb orphen tyfu: Yn ddigywilydd aeth trwy'r fro I gasglu beiau'r dynol deulu; I fod-mor bsrffaith taith oedd bon, Fu bron a.'i yru i lesmeirio: Ei gofio 'rwvf o destyn lion— "X mwya.'j fai parota' i feio." 'Does olion dysg ar blant fel hyn, Gwrthrychau tedlwng o dosturi; Pe doi i'w cwrnni angel gwyn, { Diegwylient iddo fees ymgrymu; Mi glywaf lais yr oesau i gyd Yn uno'n unol i gyd-dystio Mai gwir yw'r testyn ar ei byd- "Y mwya'i fai parota' i feio." Cefn Coed. CASWALtON..

"AnvirE TO NIOTRLMS. "-Are yon broken in your rest by a sick child suffering with the pain of rnttuig teeth Co at once to a chemist, ar.(j a bottle of MRS. W'INBI.OW'S SOOTHING SYRTTP. '1t iiroduces a natural, quiet steep by relieving the child from pain, and the little cherub awakes as bricht as a button." Contains no Poisonous Ingre- dient. Of all Chemists, U. lid. per bottle. ——i^ IJJ ..f Mr. C. Sanderson, of 33, Windsor Street, Liverpool, who writes:— i I have suffered with gravel, rheumatism, and gout for years, and being __0_ lucky enough to meet a man who praised your Doan's Backache Kidney Pills, I was induced to give them a trial. At this time my knees were stt ,stiff with rheumatism that it was painful to walk even if I went down to -===- the Toxteth Iyibrary at the corner—only a few steps—I had to limp along with a stick. When the weather was bad I hardly knew how to bear myself. My knees and finger-joints were quite swollen with tha "• '-r— ■ ■ rx rheumatism. Every cold used to fly to my back, and irritate the kidneys, making the bladder trouble worse than ever. The amount of gravel I passed was astounding to me. I was convinced that my trouble wa& -==- 1 .0 hereditary, for my father used to suffer fearfully from gravel, stone, and =:= !I kidney complaint. Doan's Backache Kidney Pills helped me—they mad4 the water pass naturally and without that burning pain, and now I am in better health than I have been for years. I can walk to Seafortb ■< g and back-a good ten-miles' stretch without the least discomfort. My back is quite free from pain, and I feel years youngef. ::¡ (Signed) CHAS..SANDERSON/' b. 2/9 a box, 6 boxes 15j9; of all dcalert, or from Foster-McClellanCo., 8, Wells-st., Oxford-st., London, J5 LIKE MR. SANDERSON HAD. MAN'S PillS > The Sturmey-Archer makes Cycling Easy. P^rST—A low gear for climbing hills 'M. M *nd riding against headwinds with ease. I SECOND.—A normal or middle gear with i. £ ^«jlBw'IgrjJm THIRD—A high gear, which enables you *° enjoy to the full the exhilaration of going W^HHHpTy] t j \WSSFJA^^3' 1 fast without e*tr* exertion. The orlgina. i -■ Sturmey- ZhmF Archer jjf /l|'3-Sped Gear »ai Trico&stcr. | i v Descriptive Booklet Post Free* | 8TURMSR-AIICN £ sunt, LTD., NSTTUMMAM. I )f Of all good Cycle AgcaU. il-J' 1 ;I — i ii ,r^ ) It is good for children to indulge their t I t liking for a wholesome table dainty like I 11 I BIRDS M CUSTARD | It is one of the Sweets that A never cloy, and besides being A V^^teV refreshing, is highly A %!W^°mmen^e(^al^0r food value. & only Cenulne j Jj j J j j| The.Orig!nGl O-" JNW W —' "f CYCLES %| THE WORLD'S BEST. J No cycle deserves better of the cycling pablio than the half- century old "Swift." Ita designers are competent cycle I < < engineers, its boilders the best mechanics the world can I supply or money command, the material the finest, meapec. I tJi ve of 008t. Yet despite its high grade qualities, prices are in strict I keeping with the needs of the age. K From £7. 0 0 CASH. Or from 10/9 month. I 8M the 1910 Models at V J. LEWIS, 354, High Street, Pesydarren, 2 MERTHYR TYDFlL 1 n. aWl" CYCLE LtII.. COVENTRY. LoNDON: 15.16, Holborn Viaduct. V — ,l.

THE PEARL NECKLACE (A Story of a Mysterious Robbery), BY ARTHUR APPLIN, Author of "The Chorus Girl," "The Stage Door," "Van Dylk Diamonds," "The Butcher of Bruton-street," etc. CHAPTER VII. Michael had no intention of going straight to the railway station. The reason which had prompted him to breakfast at an unusually early hour was the desire to see Lila before he caught his train, to tell her of his meeting with Grimmett the previous day, and to give her at least a hint of his sister's forthcoming I engagement. For in the hurried meeting with Ruth that morning, he toid her that he considered tlax- had behaved very badly to h-er the previous evening, and she had explained tha* in neglect- ing hex he had only been tactfully obeying hex wishes.. So Michael walked through the woods almost light-heartedly, swinging the case which held his sister's jewels in his hand. H was pretty bad having to pledge them to pay his gambling debts, and he felt a beast. It was some con- solation to know that happmees awaited Ruth in the future, tha^ she won la be free from the shadow of debt. Her marriage would help Michael's freedom too He walked boldly to tbe front door of the cottage this morning, and knocking, entered, shouting Lila's name. Grim met' had only just gone out and she was alone. '-Whv are you suddenly so rash she asked. "Because I had a row with your father yes- terday, and the only thing to be done now is 1 to defy him. I'm going up to London to-day had to see you before I went- and if I ve any luck I'm going to get a 6pecial marriage licence —in case anything happens!" "But Mike, you've scarcely a.ny money, and I haven't a pennv in the world-not tliat 1 ni afraid; of facing poverty with you, but it will be wseless to try and escape from father. Be- sides's there's vour sister Michael pur the parcel he was carrying on the table, shut the door of the.d. pull- ing Lila into the armchair, 6at bssidft her on its arm. "I'll tell yon a secret my sister is engaged to be married to Mr Harvey! It's beastly to think aoouJ the money side of it. but he s fear- fully rich, and when "h'[ married, the Guv- 'nor will make we an allowance. Harvey s got influence, I daresay he'll help me into a pro- lr fession It's no use telling your father of this b- Ides, why should I tell him anything? He's our servant, and as I said before, you re not really his daughter. So, Lila, if I come to you one morning suddenly and ask you to run away with me—will you come 7" She looked a little frightened then. "One mornin'JT—suddenly? But wiajit about the pre. Bent? You told me you were in difficulties. Michael nodded and bit. his lip. "My sis- ter's a brick, she's helping me. Look here, I II make a clean breast of it to you, Lila, and if you despise me, wcll-T can't help it. I owe Harvey money, and I'm taking the old family heirlooms that belong to my sister up to Lon- don to raise money on them. It's a beastly low down game. buf here they are. 0 re He tapid-d the box S,;J.v&g'e'¿. "Not that there's much of value, but I know she treasures them-and when she gave me viie jewel case this morning she said she put ev*rvthing m rt. evervthing she nossesses. so that th?re should be no douir about my getting enough money Lila's eyes grew moist. "That's awfully good of her. I know how you must feel about it, Mike. They're the jevrois that belonged to your mother, aren't they? Are they very beautiful? I should love to look at them-may Michael shrugged his shoulders and hesitated a. moment. "I don't know whv-you shouldn't se. them." He untied the brown paper that covered the box and took the key from his pocket "Per- haps some of them will be yours one day. if tuck ever comes my way. They are not valu- able you know, but they're old and very beau- tiful." He opened the box and tore aside the cover- inp: of tissue paper "How beautifulcried Lila. clasping her hands as she leant forward. "Why, that must be irortb a fortune." Michael said nothing. He was stanng into the jewel ease, too, his brows almost meeiting, his eves dilated. "May I put it on for a moment?" Lila cried, "jus, for a moment—I never saw anything so Ifeautiful." She stretched out her hands and irom the jewel case she drew out Miriam s pearl neck- lace. Still Michael was silent not surprise, but horror in his eyes. His lips twitched and his hands trembled as he raised his arm as if to Stop Lila. But she was too intent upon the rope of pearis to notice him. She twisted it round her neck, then danced acroes the room to the mirror, and, looking at her reflection, clipped her hands with childish d?hsrht "Oh, Michael," she whispered under her breath. "do you really mean that one day per- haps you will give this to me He found his voice then, and in a couple of strides reached her aide and roughly tore the pearls from her throat. "Good God—no!" he stammered, "it doesn't belong to me, it doesn't belong to my sister; itrs Ho stopped as he saw the expression on Lila's face change swiftly from joy to terror, and at the same "moment a thought unspeakable wing- J ed its way to his heart. He dismissed it with an hysterical laugh, but it promptly assailed him again. "What's the matter-what have I done?" Lila. whiepered. Michael held the necklace in his two hands tightly, staring at is if with a fain1 hope that his eyes deceived him. or that he was suffering from a temporary hallucination; "Michael, what's the matter? Tel! m, dear, what's happened? Has someone robbed you?" He threw back his head then and laughed aloud. "No. I've not been robbedl, I tell you this doe iill j belong to me; it has no business I her%. It-" He stopped suddenly, and, tutning quickly, fpced the window. The voices from outside had reached his ears. He saw indistinctly through the bushes outside two figrures moving, and, pushing the jewel case across the table, he put tha necklace back, and closed it sharply.

< H\ tH! t J [BETTERTHAN RATTRAPS s We don't care what you've tried. The rats will i = cojpe again unless you try Sanford's Rat Poison. S 4 Rats like it and come out for 1 J« Lay the train, they do 1 3 { JMBHK rest. All users say I § it does really exter- » f I minate. If you are m ridden try | Sanford's prepara. i tiOD to-day. Of all chemists, or direct from WBBSSHBb Sanford & Son, Sandy, Beds., IKP|5pB| in boxes 6d. to Ss. Remember it must be Sanford'3. C? I'"

NEW G.W.R. LINKS. OPENING OF A YON MOUTH AND FILTON LINES. The new Great Western line from Filton Junction to Avonmouth was opened last week by the inauguration of a regular service of rail motor cars between Avonmouth Docks and Bristol Temple Meads, the latter station be- ingj reached by a short journey over part of the existing railway. By means of a loop at Fil- ton, the new line is carried into the present G.W.R. route from South Wales to London, and does not touch Bristol itself. The open- ing of the link line will make it possible to considerably shorten the journey between Lon- don and Avonmouth Dock: an-j the event. therefore, is one of more iocal interest. 1 Another piece of new from Caiiierton to Limpley Stoke was also opened by the Great j Western Railway last waekr 1

Locking the case, he again glanced through the window but the figures had disappeared. Hold- ing up his hand to enjoin silence, he listened #and he heard voices, a woman's and a man's— lie re-cognised the latter. He waited at the window some time until the voices had died away. For a moment he felt as if he had been trapped, presently he realised it was unlikely he had either been seen or heard. He took a deep breath, and, taking out his handkerchief, wiped she perspir- ation from his forehead. The problem that faced him was no light I, one-and again the terrible thought which had tormented him a 'moment ago winged its way to his heart. Lila's hand on his arm made him start as if .he were guilty. "Mike, if those pearls don't belong to you, whose are they?'' He pushed her away from him, then opened the window wide as if he wanted all the air he could get. "They——I can't tell you. Of course, iPs a mistake. I'm a silly ass to make this fuss, but it was rather startling, wasn't it? They got put into my sister's jewel case by mistake, that's all." He glanced at the clock. "I—1 shall have to hurry off, I shall mise the train." He moved as if to pick up the box it la-v on the table on one side of which he stood; on the other side facing him, Lila. She was: watching him and there was no doubt in her eyes; he felt almost incapable of action. He put his hand over the box, and in- stead of lifting it dragged it slowly towards him. She still watched every movement, the doubt on her face growing. And fear grew in Michael's heart. Fear of what he scarcely knew—a general vague fear of everything, everyone; just then of Lila most of all, because she loved him. She had asked for an explanation and be had none to give. How could he explain that which to him was a mystery. His only safety lay in silence For a chance word might cast suspicion on his sis- ter. ter. The thought had found expression at last! His sister! With an effort he seized the sheet of brown paper which had covered the jewel box and commenced to roll the latter up in it, roughly, untidily, anyhow, his hands shaking so that the paper rattled. And Lila still watched him with an unnerv- ing, dull curiosity. Michael thrust the untidy parcel under his arm, and, seizing his hat, moved jerkily towards the door. She watched him go without a word, and not until be reached the porch did lie turn to say G ood bye. Instead of answering, Lila asked a question "Why don't, you leave those pearls with me until you come back? They would be quite safe here. MichaeJ shook his head. "I don't know how ( they got into this case; I must keep them now I until I return from London." He was silent a moment; be looked through rather than at Lila. "One would think t.ba/ you suspected someone at the house, the servants or-" He made a helpless gesture with his hands. To attempt an explanation was only courting disaster in the deepening waters of misunder- standing. "You behave so strangely," she whispered. "Your manner frightened me. Of course, I don, tthink anything. Only you were distress- ed, and I'm—I'm sorry That's all, Mike dea.r "Thanks!" He held out his hand impulsively, their eyes me' then for a moment, and the next he dragged himself awny, the garden gate clang- ing behind him. and be walked quickly in the direction of the station. He was in plenty of time for the train, but he quickened his pace, until, as be left the wood behind and reached the fields. he com- menced to run. The voices he had heard 4 shor* time ago were silent: the figures he had seen had dis- appeared. But he ran as if he feared pursuit; he ran knowing there was no escape. Thoughts pursue him, terribie thoughts. It was insane to consider them: it was vile of him to permit them to enter his mind for a moment. Yet they refused to go away, and though he ran even as though he were a thief, they followed. Perhaps someone had played a trick on him- or it was just possible that Ruth had confided her troubles to Miriam and she had offered her pearls to help them out of their difficulty. The in was so absurd that he laughed as he ran. Suddenly he found himself on the station plat- form. his ha' on the back of his head, his hair blown by the wind, boads of perspiration on his forehead. In his mad haste the paper had been blown aside from the jewel case, it was torn and crumpled, and though be tried to fold it neatly the leather box peeped out as tf adver- tising its presence and its contents. The train was signalled, and he moved to- ward the booking office to obtain his ticket. but as he reaobed the entrance John Harvey intercepted him. CHAPTER VIIL Barveyf cried, cheerfully, "I've been waiting here quite a long time. 'l'hey told me you were dashing off to town, and I want you to do a commission for me." Michael's cheeks, which had been scarlet from haste, lost their colour and grew pale at Harvey's unexpected appearance. "Delighted." he stammered. "I—I had some business to do before coming to the station; it kept me longer than I expected, and I was afraid of missing the train, so I hurried." Harvey nodded. "You look as if you had!" He waited until Michael had taken his ticket, then he slipped his arm through the boy's arm and led him on to the platform. "Walk up to the top with me and I'll tell you what J want you to do." The colour had not yet returned to Michael's faoe; he was still breathing heavily as if from his recent exertions.' He felt ridiculously like a thief who had been captured; though inno- cent, his conscience accused him of guilt. Har- vey walked the length of the platform before speaking, and every second that passed increas- ed Michael's uneasiness. "Look here. old man," Har-vibv said, sudden- ly, "you've only a couple of minutes, so don't mind my being plain; and if you're offended. well. you won't be the sensible chap I take you for." "I shan't be offended, whatever you say," Michael stammered. "Well, I've just heard—never mind who told me—that you're hard up for the minute. I in- stantly guessed you were going up to town to raise money. Now, I'm surely an old enough friend to be allowed to help you; besides, in a short time I hope to be more than a friend. So tell me what you owe; let me write you out a cheque, and come back with me and 'help to shoot your Father's pheasants." Michael laughed stuidly. The sense of relief was so great. Yet, aa if scarcely giving the offer consideration, he automatically refused. "It's awfully good of you-but if I've got into a mess, I prefer to get out of it myself Besides. I'm not going to town just to raise money He took a deep breath, and when h3 spoke again his voice had changed "Tell me what I can do for you in town." There was a change, too, in John Harvey's voice when he reolied. "That's the only thing you can do for me, to accept my offer." Hie hand tightened on Michael's arm; he felt his fingers bite into the flesh. "You've got to acoept-<ion't be a fool Look, here's the train coming, I know the sort of mess you've got into, I blame myself I encouraged you to play for high stakes, and all that sort of thing. But we won't talk about it-—we'll forget it all --only you must accept my offer and come back to the house at once." Michael tore himself free and looked v Har- vey with anger rather than gratitude. "My dear Mr. Harvey, I.tell you I must go to town. I'm no* only going on my own business, but my slSter-" Harvey started then, and again seized Michael by the arm. "Y ourister." he said. under his breath, "what the devil do you mean?" Before Michael could reply the train rattled into the station, in the bustle and confusion that ensued, he once more wrenched himself free and jumped into the first compartment that he saw. But Harvey followed him, puiled open the door, and as Michael was about to take his seat seized the jewel case with its tattered paper cover and pulled it from beneath Michael's arm. "Don't be a fool and worse than a fool," he whispered, fiercely. "Get out: you've got to come back: I tell you I know—everything." Michael staggered to his feet, his face death- lywhite now. "ai are you saying? There's nothing to know; he choked. "Get out and come back; it'll be all right," Harvey repeated. The guard, passing, slammed the door on Michael, the train whistled and started for- ward. Harvey jumped back to escape being knocked down; then, seeing Michael still a prisoner in the compartment, he tried to follow and unfasten the door, but the porter pushed him away. With an oath Harvey flung him aside and ran up the platform But if was too late the train, with gathering speed, hurtled out of the station and Harvey was 'eft on the platform holding tight!y to the jewel box bereft of its covering, whilst the train disappeared round a curve, leaving only a wreath of white smoke to mark its passage. For a moment he hesitated, but his mind wa. I quickly made up. He hurried to the telegraph office and sent a telegram to Michael at Pad- dinsrton Station: there was just a chance it miih- reach him. For he was frightened now as to wha the boy might do when he found himself alone and perhaps penniless in London with his secret discovered. Then he swung out of the station along the road towards the Hall, but when he reached the stile which led through the fields to the keep- er's cottage, he took that path, hurrying until the ivy-clad building was in sight. Then he slackened speed and moved cautious- ly, looking right and left, as if afraid of being observed He knocked gently on the door, keeping the case hidden beneath his coat. Lila appeared in the little hall, and when, in answer to his question as to whether she were alone, she replied in the affirmative, he immed- iately entered. "Mr. Michael "Villette was here a few mo- ments ago Lila nodded. "I want you to tell me all tha* passed between you." He kep his eyes on her face, expecting her to show either surprise or felr, but ?h-= merely raised her eyebrows and looked at him enquir- ingly. "Before 1 can answer that question, you must tell me your reasons for asking it." Harvey rapped impatiently on the table, time was precious. "You must answer me," he said sharply. "Chance brought me here in time to see a great deal that happened—to guess th" t. For your sak and Mr. Michael's sake, Vall must tell me everything Vall blOw" To Harvey's surprise, Lila's self-coni.rot van. isued suddenly; she sank illto a seat at the table, and, burying her face in her hands, sobbed bitterly "I know nothing, nothing. He was showing nw his sister's jewels, and when he opened the box there was a beautiful pearl necklace there, which he said did not belong to her. But he was frightened and ve.ry angry He could not explain ho went, away. That's that hap- pened, that's all I know!" CHAPTER IX. It would have besen obvious to the meanest intelligence that. LiJa's professions of innocence were genuine. In tho brief explanation, whioh she sobbed to Harvey, he J .new at once that she had told him all she concerning Ruth VillelAe'e jewels and'the- necklace. And .John }-»i.-vey was now as puzzled as had booD After what, lie K.'»' f' -«? Khrough the window of the gamekeepwroM&ge a bare half -houi I ago, and after th. tton and the struggle with Michael or. i.Jic- railway station, he made. up his mind thai boy had, in a. moment of madness, succumbed to the temptation of tak- ing the jewels he had probably found the prev- iou, evenin when Miriam dropped them. Michael Vilkv'-t" brother of the woman he loved, was r romnion thief. Harvey knew there was no escape, from this terrible fact, yet strong man though !-Is: was, he refused adroit Love bade him against the kiv.. more- over he had faith in the boy. A momenJ of madness—terror r- Inylng- m- able to hv; debts of honour! These 1.b excuses which he made to hirrfself. now there was p" r;x:pi;u¡atioT> ho repeated coem over and over regain white- he stood in tb little cottage watchinc Lila &" sh wept. He was too overcome by the tragedy he had discovered to feel much sorrow for her. And when he realised it was useless to tion her further, and that she had oothin?. more to tell him, he turned to fro 'hii a? bp. reached the door he reali,«ed her nnr: moreover ho "smerobered thai r- Ir7s3w everything, het ^nouth must b» sfonr-^d He returne:3 '<• her side and laio Vm ,vrr. or» her should** '-rrvZ\y. tenderly W~s.r ehi-d. dry your You must he brevs. wd :;co"v» all, no one tI. i-Tiow wbat. you la)c>> :r -J- must even guess." Instantly Li!a obeyed, siriinc :1p.jt.. dry- mg her eyes and -choking batik her sobs. She looekd at Harvey. And M 1: saw in her eyes faith -.3 "What do you «r.r«v«>—riv^t know?" she whispered haven't ..rivvhing to be ashamed of; V baren't anything I need be ashamed of confessing." Harvey di >ioi *ftp!y and she read his thoughts, and mSo-, to her feet, «W>dyinsr her- self with the back of her chair She did not speak at onoe, but gazed thoughtfully at Har- vey as if trying to dispel the horrible fear which gripped her so fiercely. Outside the wmd still whispered sweetly and the pigeons cooed in the trees, and the autumn day was bright and sweet. At Inst Ula found her voice, and Harvey was surprised io bear something of scorn and contempt in it. "Do you think that Michael "—for a mo- ment she hesitated, unable to proceed, as if the thought were too horrible for expression-- "Do vou think Michael—stole that n-sck lace?" Harvey turned bis he-Ad; he dared not look into the girl's eyes. Faith shone there, and purity. He knew that she loved Michael, and in his hand bad been placed the knife to mur- der love. Silenoe angered her; she repeated her ques- tion fiercely, and in a voice which seemed full of condemnation for Harvey. "What he answered dully. "He was condemned out of his own mouth; he confessed as much to you." Lila laughed then loudly and long, and Har- vey turned anxiously towards the window, fear- ful lest others, unseen, might overhear. "Would he have come here with his sister's jewel case, and let me open the box if he had stolen the neckline? I tell you when he saw them he was overcome with surprise "and anger." Harvey shook his head. He was staring rest- lessly through th" window now. "And yet. when he left you he went straight to the railway station he was taking them to London that he might seUtbem and pay his debts." Lila started, and, trembling, sank back into her chair and buried her face in her hands again. "WeliV" "Well," Harvey whispered, "if he had been innocent, he would have taken them straight back to the house, of course." Lila rocked herself to and fro "He owed money, I know, and he was anxious to pay his debts—to you especially. And he loved me—he wanted me to run away with him." Harvey nodded, and once more moved to- wards the door It was all so obvious, so very plain. Further attempts at self-deception were impossible and useless. Opening the door he glanced through the little hail and out into tbe garden; both were deserted. "Lila, no one need ever know; no one must ever know! Only you and I—and another. So dry your eyes again: forget what you've seen; forget what you know. I ca.n put every- thing all right." u Once again she raised her head, and the depth or sorrow in her eyes hurt him, for be still saw hope struggling there. She refused to believe the man she loved could have fallen so low. And Harvey loved her for her faith, whilst he pitied her for the rude awakening which had come, and for worse which would surely follow remember." she said under her breath, very slowly, nodding her head. "I saw no- thing, I know nothing—save this one thing; I know that Michael is not a thief!" Harvey tried to speak — but what was there to be said? He hesitated a little, while trying Harvey tried to speak — but what was there to be said? He hesitated a little, while trying to find some comfort for her; but silence was best, and, bowing his head, he quietly closed the door, and went out through the haU into the open. He walked slowly along the path which led through th? orchard to the Hall, until he real- t ised that his long absence from the house might cause surprise and comment; so, keeping the jewel box hidden as much as possible under his arm. he commenced to run, not slackening ■. speed until he reached the garden, and saw the, eyes of the house open upon him. As yet he had not made up his mind how to act, and naturally his first thought, still, was to shield Ruth no matter who else knew or suspected, she inusr never know. | Harvey knew that she was a woman who held honour dearer than all else, and the knowledge would kill her—it would at least rob her of everything but just the empty shell of life it- self—and he would lose her. j He walked qu.ekly along the balustrade, glancing through the windows of the dining and smoking rooms; in one room, two ser- vants; in the other, a couple ot men. He avoided the front door when he saw the beaters and dogs outside and heard voioes and laugh- ter: probably the 8hoot was waiting for him, so he commenced to run again until he reached the back of the house. But even there, there were servants,, and his entrance would probably cause more comment than elsewhere. He tried to push the jewel case into one of his pockets, but it was too big; hidden beneath his ccaf it was obvious he was hiding some- thing. Again. he approached the front door, but he was too nervous now to enter. It was as if he were a thief, and he had it in his heart to wish they would accuse him. By this time probably everyone in the house would know that Miriam EgglingtoD had lost her wonderful pearl necklace. It was unfortun- ate that she had told the servant to look for it, and though he could not blame her for this, he blamed her for her carelessness in losing it. He walked up a.nd down behind the shrub- bery, out of sight, but not out of hearing; and his sensa of helplessness increased, and with it ¡' a sense of irritation. Miriam ought to have waited for him, for, after what she had seen, slje knew, or suspected, the worst. He did not know what she might have already said or done in the house he only knew she would, as 600 had promised, do everything to allay everyone's suspicions. It was quite possible she had al- ready told Sir Reginald Villette that the neck- lace had been found. I In that case, if Harvey could escape quickly through the hall without being, questioned bv I the men, and without meeting Ruth, and hide the jewel case in his room until Michael's re- turn, the honour of the Villettes and Ruth's happiness might be saved, and all end well. I It was useless to tarry outside the house- any longer; the shooting party was waiting for him; so keeping the jewel case tightly under his arm, hidden as much as possible, he en- tered the drive and walked boldly past the I keepers, and entered the house through the hall. (To be continued.)