= - Mal y EX Ml Kh, CHARLUTTETOWN, MAKCH 16, {906 - “—e _ . PTY LY eee, BSP ek rye - AAD}ADAAAAD AO AAADADR Ale : 11 ; 6) ORR III IOI IRI Oates | ~ Wh ij wx AREA CARRY } Well i] x* ia anil - » ¢ ‘ | x 1 (NID) hh 1 MAN! : ee: B | ee Ir TL Un) /& rote yt | % re . a py vad ‘0 | “x i a L } | \/ *\ j 1 | || \\ i } vi. Re. SAR ¥ Ee “ L Y u U L a Y UW L- bu u 24 x . i ie TO Lu this rt a . ; by te Be te er oe a. . STOTT * of ehh oh ut ob ofan et the ; | ‘ : Sos hist ., | ©ORMMEXKEX By LAURA JEAN LIBBEY #f¢¢t###4.) | me a Woried | dite sett St Cul Se as! Ul ihe ouat Author of “When Lovely Maiden Stoops to Folly,” “A Broken > er % ‘ und spit ‘ (hor KEKE K Betrothal,” “Parted by Fate,’ “Parted at awe r lo nN poor = x wy aaa i sal is und work ofa cast KKK the Altar,” etc., etc. eae ; oO take a fatal step H fing 1d sae f KK SS KR eee es } ' in wedding a man who does not love nd Keeping ¥ex KEKE got i bot who wo be glad she die clean, when for a little more money LI) EEEER EEE KARE EAIEIIEIIE KEE IEII IIL SLA IE ITE a eee pn fa i compa Blt i seamless e md FEEKEKEIE IIL LEIS IIIS IISA SIS We BK ee IK I CH , the next aay aiter she married him, \& HO RDYDOE MOROHDAG © y _for then he would come into posses-

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Call at our office and of most interesting pictures connected with South Africa and the war,

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One of the family is a vol- unteer in the Imperial Yeo- ‘@anry, and on his way now to

presented

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ae Cape. It is h sped that | may give a good account of |

SYNOPSIS, ]

Florabel was a dependent of her step- father, Squire Pemberton. His daughters hate F l, aod when the Squire dies, order her out of the old home. Max Forrest ara rich young man marries her and introduces her into his family the members of which disapprove of his mar Tinge, as they wanted him to marry Mies Clavering, an heiress.

CAAPTER XI--(Contioned.)

There was little use of jreturning to Mrs. Dickson’s now.

Like one dazed, with trouble fal- ling so thickly and so fast upon her, Florabel passed out of the park. At the first corner observed quite a commotion.

A pair of prancing bays attached to a basket were tearing like lightning down the boulevard, and the occupant of the phaeton, a deli- cate, fair-haired lady, was clinging to the dash board, screaming frantically.

Florabel was brave and daring by nature, and in an instant, as she be- held the frightful scene, a brave thought suggested itself to her.

‘‘Jump!’’ she cried out, springing to the edge of the pavement; ‘‘jump! and I will catch you!’’

And to the wonder of the breath- paralyzed bystanders, the occu-

rrabe

she

phaeton

less, pant of the phaeton heard, and obeyed, not an instant soon, for the next moment the phae- ton lay, dashed to yegces, against an adjacent lamp post, and the lady, through sheer terror, lay in a deep swoon in Florabel’s arms.

While they were in search of medi- cal the lady opened her yes, and struggled out of Florabeel’s arms to her feet with a cry of pain.

‘*My ankle is sprained, I fear,’’ she cried, faintly. ‘‘T cannot walk. Won’t you call a cab, please, and ac- company me as far as my home?’’ she asked, plaintively, looking up into Florabel’s face. ‘‘Iam afraid to be left alone again by myself. I should be sure to faint again with the pain. Oh, do come!’’

4 Florabel could not refuse her.

‘*‘You have saved my life,’’ she said, gratefully, to Florabel. ‘‘I should like to show my appreciation

understood,

but too

assistance

in some lasting way. I see traces of tears on your face. Why should one

so young and beautiful as yourself ever weep?’’

‘*Because I am very unhappy,’’ fal- tered Florabel. “‘No young girl in this world ever met with a fate as cruel as mine. My whole life has been unhappy since my childhood.’’

‘*Are you alone in the world?’’ ask- ed the lady, quickly.

‘*Yes,’’ said Florabel, choking back a hard sob.

‘‘If there is nothing to prevent, how would you like coming to live with me? I, too, have rather an iso- lated life of it, for I am something of

There is a stat that points every woman to the path. way of happiness. If is the “Star of Health.”’ It is the duty of every mothe to point out this stat and indicate this pathway to her daughters, There are too many unhappy—too many un. healthy women in the world. At every gathering where women meet alone, the story is heard of sickness and nervousness and despondency. : ;

The woman who suffers in this way makes a mistake to consult the average obscure physician. If she does so, the chances are that she is told that her trouble is nervous- ness or insomnia or indigestion or heart trouble. It does not happen very often that this diagnosis is correct. When by some fortunate chance she is told the truth, that she is suffering from weakness and disease of the distinctly feminine organism, she is told at the same time that she must submit to the obnoxious examinations and local treatment so embarrassing to a sensitive woman. All this is unnecessary.

The wise woman will seek the advice of seme specialist of world wide reputation. Dr. R. V. Pierce is such aman. For thifty years he has been chief oe physi- cian to the Invalids’ Hotel and Surgical Institute, at Buffalo, N. Y. During that time, with the assistance of a staff of emi- nent physicians, he has treated thousands of ailing women. He is the inventor of that wonderful medicine for women known as Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Prescription. This medicine acts directly on the delicate and important organs that make maternity pos- sible. It cures all weakness, disease, in- ternal ulceration and inflammation and de- bilitating drains. It has transformed thou- sands of weak, suffering women into healthy, happy, robust wives. It is for sale by all good medicine dealers.

“Never fail to cure constipation — Dr. Pierce’s Pleasant Pellets.

meee ma i ie

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SS ee SO Se Sy an invalid. I have a beautiful home and all that wealth thing, save health. But I would give every dollar of my fortune,’’ sigh the heiress, ‘‘to be young and

and—and beautiful like you,’’ added.

‘*T will only be too glad to come,’’ returned Florabel, simply, ‘‘but I can tell you nothing of my past life. Could you trust me, when I tell you that, and not lose faith in me?’’

can buy—every-

Strong

‘*T will not seek to pry into your past, my dear,’’ returned the lady. ‘“‘T can judge your character from

your face, and I am sure it must be

good and pure. You must tell me, of course, vour name, my dear. I am

Isabel Carlisle, of No.—-Lexington Avenue.’’

‘*And I,’’ answered Florabel, ‘‘am Florabel Dean.’’

‘‘Vane!’’ exclaimed the lady-

‘‘Florabel Vane! What a poetical name, and it just suits you. I shall like you all the better because your name is Vane—that was the name of a dear friend long since dead.’’

Fiorabel was just about to correct this wrong impression, but an unac- countable impulse seized her to let matters stand as they were. [If this lady liked the name of Vane so much better, what harm to call her by that? It could not matter much.

And that one incident was the turn- ing point of a strange fate.

An hour later they were both seat-

ed in the heiress’ boudoir. The sprain-

ed ankle was nicely bandaged, and Miss Carlisle lay back among the cushions of the Givan, but little the

worse for so thrilling an accident.

‘*T should like my ankle to be well before a fortnight elapses,’’ she said, thoughtfully, ‘‘for on that day my lover comes back from abroad.’’

She looked keenly and breathlessly

into Florabel’s face to see how she received this intelligence. But Florabel’s face dic not betray

her thoughts.

‘‘Are you surprised have a lover, Miss Vane?’’ asked, sharply. ‘‘Do you think I look too old and plain for a young and hand- some man to admire and wish to marry me?’’

‘‘No no, dear ledy.’’ replied Flora bel, much pained. ‘‘Why should i think that? Iam sure any one who knows you must learn to love you,”’ she added, earnestly.

‘‘The great bone of contention be- tween my relatives and myself is about this lover,’’ she said, plaintive- ly, ‘‘and for that reason [ have cut loose from them. I—I tell you this because I yearn to have a confidante, Miss Vane. I feel the need of having some one by my side to teli my thoughts to. I have had many com- panions, but I sent them away one by

that I should

she

one; there was no bond of sympathy between us. You are my trasted friend, who has saved my life. Your sad smile touched my heart at once.’’

‘*‘T am so glad,’’ said Florabel, earn- estly.

‘*Reach me that clasped velvet case on the mantel, and I will you my lover’s portrait; then you will not wonder that [ am willing to sacrifice the whole world for his sake. My re- latives can find but one fault with him, and that is that he is poor. But what of that? I have quite enough for both. They call him a fortune- hunter,’’ she added, her eyes blazing; ‘‘bnt I will not believe it. I could not. He loves me for myself. Ah! is he rot handsome, Miss Vane?’’ she exclaimed, opening the case and hand- ing it to Florabel.

It was, indeed, a gloriously hand- some face on which Florabel gazed. How little she dreamed how strangely this young and handsome man’s path was to cross her own.

‘*Ts it not a grand face?’’ murmured Miss Carlisle, proudly. ‘‘Would it not be easy for any woman to love such a man—a king among men?’’

Florabel murmured an inaudible re- ply.

Fascinating the pictured face cer- tainly was, but it was not a face to trust. Greed and cunning lurked in the bold, sparkling, black eyes. His mouth alone would have betrayed him, had it not been concealed by the dark, curling mustache.

‘‘He is coming in two weeks more to set the wedding day,’’ continued Miss Carlisle, softly.

It was easy to see how the heiress loved him. But from his portrait, Florabel judged that he was a man who loved himself better than he

show

| could ever love any woman.

she |

sion of her property. ‘‘He is marrying her for gold, not for love. Oh, Miss Vane, let me plead

ith you to use your influence night

nd day to break this marriage up. Heaven would surely bless you for such an act. And I warn you, too, ‘Miss Vane, to keep out of Gerald Thorndyke’s way. He cannot with- stand making love to a pretty girl.

?

Remember, I warn you.’’

CHAPTER XVIII.

RM would have been amusing if it had not been so pitiful to watch Miss Carlisle count the days that interven- ed, she was so anxiously awaiting her lover’s arrival

‘*T want you to tell me the truth, Miss Vane,’’ she said to Florabel day. ‘‘Do you think I am beginning to look passe—faded? At thirty one always feels anxious over her looks.’’

It would have been pitiful to have told her the truth—that she looked older than that.

‘‘IT should like to look pleasing,’’ she continued, in a wistful voice. ‘‘I sometimes tremble, Miss Vane, with vague apprehensions; he is thrown in contact with so many young girls.’’

‘*One should never make an idle of either lover or husband,’’ returned Florabel, falteringly, ‘‘for those we idolize are usually taken from us.’’

‘*T should die, if I were to lose Ger- ald,’’ exclaimed the heiress, passion- ately. ‘‘I watch for his coming; I weep myself ill over his departure; I treasure his letters. L repeat, it would kill if anything should come between us.’’

one

me

( Continued op page 8.)

~~ <=

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