CHAPTER XIV.—CONTINUED.

Waikato Times, Volume IV, Issue 224, 16 October 1873, Page 3

CHAPTER XIV. —CONTINUED.

sweetness was rapidly passing away — pale and set, ' and bo neath my anger. It provokes only my contempt ' 'Indeed! I am unfortunate in incurring so lofty anc becoming a rebuke from -i Inly who In 1 * been so suddenlj converted mto a modi I of tiiial \li'n> tu>n ami solicitudo, said Mr St Quentm, witii a s-ivge riu'lm ; ' bi t I can beai my misfortune. Be quite assured of this, nia linn — in nu you have not a chance of finding the jnoverbml old fool foi which you evidently take me. The hand in which Miriam !u<lil the lotter extended totowards him, dropped to her hido", and a visible shudder ol disgust crept over her. She stood for one moment urn ertain, as though the were going to speak, and then turned abrubtly away, and left the room. ' What shall I do, Florence ? lam completely puzzled. I know / ought to go to papa ; I am sure the case is a bad one, and my right place is beside him now. But I cannot be sure that there is any change in his mood ; and he might only be savagely angry with me if I returned to the Firs unaskod, and incurred the penalty of a separation from Mr St Quentin by doing so I suppose he has the power to carry out his threat ? But no matter ; I have paid too high a price for what he had to give me' (thero was a strange disturbance and loathing in her face), ' to risk the loss of it all now for the sake of going to my father, who never cared for me, and who would certainly be furious. And yet, that this old man should refuse me ; and more than that, should dare to insult me with so ineffably mean and low a suspicion How does such baseness come into people's heads, [ wonder? If I give in to him in this, I bball never be able to carry any other point. Florence, what must Ido ?' Florence, who had been listening to her with silent tenrs raised her gentle eyes to her face, and said, ' Miriam, I will go to Mr Clint.' 1 You !' ' Yes. Listen to me my dear sister. You can trust my cure of him, and you know I will tell you the truth. If I send for you, come to your father at all hazards — I cheerfully accept that responsibility — but otherwied) not press thin disagreement with your husband to extremities. Mr Clint was never rough with me, and I feel sure I can manage him; and Mrs Ritchie and I arc very good friends. Never fear but that I will do my duty to Walter's father and yours. Mr St Quentin has no power to control my movements. I shall be m safety m the place where Walter wished me to be ; nothing can possibly h lppen to me ; and incleeed, you will be better without me now. Yes, Miriam, I will go.' ' And so lam beaten, and he wins at all points. Florence, 1 never hated my father when he made me most wretched ; but I do hate this old man.* ' Hush, my dearest — hush !'

Dr Lander uses chloride of pottassium insted of bromide of pottassium in epilepsy. He mentions the following advantages in the employment of the substanco : — It is more active, is but one-sixth of the cost, and has not secondary effects of the bromide. He begins with small doses, but has been able to continue the use of the substance for months without inconvenience, in daily doses of from one draohm to a drachm and a half. According to Dr Lander, bromide of potassium is transformed into the chloride in the stomach. This is, therefore, an nddititional reason for prescribing it at once in this latter form. The whole of Sir Joseph Hnwley's stud, thirty-one yearlings the property of Mr William Blenkiron, and seven yearlings of Sir Thomas Barrett Lonnard's, were sold at Middle Park, Eltliam. The total amount realized by the sale of Sir Joseph Haw ley's stud was 23,555 guineas liosi crucian was bought by Mr. Chaplain for 6,200 guineas. Sir Thomas Lmnard'e yearlings averaged 50 guineas, and Mr Blenkiron's yearlings were 6old for 3,935 guuieas, an average of upwards of 127 guineas. A Lancaster county debating lociety discuised tho question, 'Will lager-beer intoxicate?' and decided it in the nepatue. One of the members, a good ten p »rani c nabft, unJ. the f «t!icr of a family, was not satisfied with the decision, and determined to test its truthfulness. He thought there could bo no harm in settling it by experiment— just for the sake of truth, you know. So one evening he bad a bucket of beer carried into his office, and lie commenced to test. At eleven o'clock at night that man might have been seen going homo on both sides of the street, when lie was not ditching about in tho middle of the road, and bucking up against and apologising to lamp-posts and tree-boxes and things. After trying ten minutes to unlock| the door with a gold penholder, he was admitted by his horrified wife, who thought he had been garroted, maybe. As soon as he observed, ' Whasher masher wisser key — hie — hole, love?' she knew what ailed him. Gently reasoning with him with a poker, she left him and retired. When ho awoke early next morning, and found his head reposing in the ash-pan, he knew right away that lagerbeer was intoxicating. He says now that there is no dependence to bo placed upon the decisions of debating societies. An extraordinary case of attempted suicido by three young women occurred on tho sth August, at Spring-hill, Birmingham. Shortly after nine o'clock, a young man named Henry Vnughan was passing along the canal aide, near to Spring-hill, when he heard screams proceeding from the water, near to the boiler works. On looking in the direction whence tho screams came he perceived three females struggling together in the water. Vaughan at once ran to the spot, and tried to rescue them, at the same time calling for assistance. Several men came in answer to his calls, and by their aid the females were got out. Their names are Rachel Arnold, residing in Aberdeen-street ; Phoebe Shott, 27, Ingleby-street ; and Harriet Fowkes, back of 27 Inglebystreet; and their ages ranged from seventeen to twenty-one years. Arnold and Shott were tied together with a shawl, and when they came out of the water they were in a very exhausted state ; but they soon recovered sufficiently to be able to walk home. It was not so, however, with Fowkcs. It was noticed that when she was in the water she appeared to be underneath the other two girls, and when she came out she was unconscious, and in that condition was conveyed home. Mr E T. Burton, surgeon, of Spring-bill, was sent for, and on his arrival he used means for the recovery of FoHkes, who would undoubtedly have been entirely drowned if she had remained in the water a little longer. With proper treatment it is expected she will recover. Police-con-stable Bacon vrai summoned to the house, and removed the girl to the workhouse, and afterwards took Arnold »md Shott into custody. As to what motive prompted the unfortunate girls to attempt suicide nothing definite is known. It was stated that Fowkes wanted to go to West Bromwick for some purpose w ith Arnold and Shott, and that her mother made an objection which offended her. She then left tho house and went with the other girls to a public-house, where they drank a quantity of spirits. Fowkes treating her companions. They left the public-house partially intoxicated, and were not seen again until they were found in the canal. All of them were employed at Messrs Nettlefold and Chamberlain's screw manufactory. The affair created much excitement in the neighbourhood. The Bordeaux Medical states that Dr Marc Girard, an eminent surgeon of that city, has lately died from a prick of a pin. He was operating upon the shoulder of a patient for a wound in which mortification had sot in, and in placing the lust sutures, he accidentally scratched his finger. The effects appeared trivial, and the hurt soon apparently healed, but shortly after again inflamed, tho poison extending through the body, and a lingering death was the result. M. Declat states positively that there is no necessity for any ill effects as above being caused J by inoculation of the blood of either a deceased patient or the cadaver, when so simple and sure an agent as carbolic acid will promptly and almost infallibly arrest them. A new building material is found in coal dust. The mixture is composed of one-sixth cement and five-sixths coal dust. In the Waveiley hydropathic establishment at Melrose the experiment was tried. A series of thick sheet iron plates aie stiffened at the edges with angle iron, the plates being attached to uprights of T-iron, and being kept in the proper position by pins, the plates are fixed so* as to be readily raised as the building progresses. After the requisite proportions of mine dust and cemeut have been mixed together, and the whole thoroughly saturated with water, the mixture is flung in between the plates, and large pieces of slag or stone bedded in it ; thereafter another bed of concrete, which fills the interstices between tho large pieces and thoroughly fixes them ; another layer of stone or slag is then added, and so on, till the space between the plates all round the buiding is filled. After being allowed to stand a night the concrete will he haid enough to allow of the plates being lifted in the morning. When gravel cm be obtained it is of course better, but the slag refuse of furnaces and useless stones can be readily utilised in this manner, and make better houses than biick.

Partly ii consequence of this pervading boredom, and partly because her mind required the cultivation of congenial companionship to keep up her interest in ' foreign parts,' Miriam \> ished to return to England in the second year of her marriage. She had never exacted from Mr St Quentm any specific promise on the subject; but it had been generally understood that, the process of acclimatisation accomplished by a year on the continent, he would 'settle'in England. The question of the ' place' had been left undecided, at Miriam's request; she had expressed her sentiments concerning the pleasuiea of rurality to Mr St Quentin with entire frankness, and he was not, at that period, inclined to oppose her or them. A house in a ' good 1 part of London, and the freo enjoyment of the pleasures of the [metropolis, was now Miriam's 'great object; and it was, therefore, with excessive anger and keen disappointment that she received a peremptory refusal from her husband, ■when she suggested their making a move in the direction of England. He had no intention of returning thither, he said, and he wished to know what was her motive in proposing it. Miriam replied, that her motive was sufficiently plain; she was tired of foreign travel, and wished to go to England. Instantly, he began to speculate upon some hidden reason for this most straightforward proceeding. Some one had gone, or was going to England, and Miriam wanted to get there too' His surveillance of Miriam increased in strictness and cunning with this supposed discovery and she frequently expressed her annoyance to Florence, accompanied with the remark that she had been a fool not to suspect, in time, that the smooth complacence of Mr St Queatin was not of a durable kind. But she did not acknowledge to Florence that she had penetrated the motive of his conduct, and found it to be jealousy; the instinct of the woman, the pride and self-respect inseparable from the the wife, withheld her from so humiliating a disclosure. That her husband should insult her by a doubt, exasperated Miriam, who was proud and impulsive, and by no means logical, as deeply as though she had married him from such exalted motives as would have entitled her to his utmost respect. But Florence did not require an explanation from Miriam in order to understand the position; the instincts of the woman aud the wife were equally strong in her case, and she was in full possession of the whole matter and also of the dislike and distrust with which Mr St Quentin regarded herself. ' I hope she may not find out that she has exchanged one kind of tyranny for another, more intolerable, and from which there is no escape,' Florence would think, when Miriam indulged in strictures upon Mr St Quentin's tiresomeness and obstinate ways. ' May Heaven preserve her from temptation ; she is in an awfully dangerous position.' It was an unpleasant shock and surprise to Miriam to find that her power was not absolute—a shock from which she recoiled into perfect silence upon the matter in dispute. If this spirit of opposition were still further aroused, and should extend in other directions, all her calculations would be defeated— not only the small ones, with trifling results to be worked ont by her supiernacy, but the big sum of all, the calculation on the correctness of whose total she had staked her life, her youth, her happiness. 'To marry an old man, and find myself unable to rule him, would be too bad a fate,' Miriam would mutter to herself, as if protesting that a thing would be too bad, were to interfere with its existence; and very stubborn and sullen grew her resolution that she would not be beaten. This was the situation of affairs when Miriam received a letter from Mrs Ritchie, the cook and housekeeper at Firs. 1 Honoured Madam' (so ran the letter), I am sorry to have to tell you anything which will cause you trouble, but I consider it is my duty to let you know, if Mr Martin has not done so, that Mr Clint has not been well lately.' ('Drinking, of course,' was Miriam's mental comment). 'He forbade anything to be said about it, but that was \p»o time ago, and since then he has had a bad attack of fever, and is lying at this present writing, in an exhausted state, his recovery not being satisfactory to my mind ; indeed, lam not sure whether it is a recovery at all. He is much wasted ; and even before this last attack he had rut left the house for several weeks. I take as much care of him as 1 can, and Mr Martin comes regular ; but I think honoured madam you ought to be informed of his illness, in case it would be a satisfaction to you to return to the Firs, and see to him yourself. I make bold, considering all things, to tell you that Mr Clint has frequently spoken of you lately, and, though he has never said so, not being that kind of gentleman, I am sure ho would be very glad if you would come. He reads little, and seems at times very solitary. —l remain, honoured madam, your obedient servant,

'Pikebe Ritchie.' This letter caused Miriam a genuine pang of fear and sorrow. Supposing her father were really seriously ill, and were to die without her seeing him again — neglected alone, save for the hiied services, which, m the case of a man like him, could not be expected to be zealous, heartfelt, or efficient. Without an instant's doubt or hesitation concerning the proper course of action, and without one thought of the coincidence between the wish she had been urging and tho return to England thus suggested to her, Miriam went in search of Mr St Quentin, and communicated to him the contents of Mrs Ritchies letter. Miriam spoko on this o vnsion with more warmth nnd less formality than there had for a long time been in her manner to her husband. She was moved by a right and generous impulse, und the half-pit} ing, lialf-remorseful feelings which actuated lior wore reflected m her speaking face, in her bright tearful eyes, and in her rapid and unstudied words. Mr St Quentin listened to her with unmoved politeness, sarcastic scrutiny, and entire unbelief. ' I suppose I tnav prepare to start immediately,' was Miriam's question m conclusion. 'I will tell Mrs Ritchie when to expect us, und write to Mr Martin to prepare papa.' ' You will do nothing of the kind,' sa:d Mr 8t Quentin. I have no more intention of returning to Enaland than I had a month ago, when you wanted to go. This cleverly apropos letter dons not change my mind m the least.' ' What !' exclaimed Miriam. 'Do you mean to say that I .im not to go to my father ? Cleverly apropos letter ' Do you dare to insinuate that this letter is not the truth ?' ' I meun to say that I shall not return to England.' 1 Tlion I will go by myself.' " You will do so at your peril. If you do you never return to any home of mine j and, considering your frankly avowed abhorremo of your father's I bar ily believe you will a.lopt :v courso which will have that result. I don't b«lieve a word of Mrs Ritchies letter; 1 belicre that thUis a foncorted plan of yours— you have a taite f. r confidences w ith servants, you know — md th-it that letter has been wnUen to order -a childish cxp-dn-nt to induro me to weld to \oar wi-hes, whrn you suv that yon rould not havo your own wav quite so entirely as you imagined. 1 ' Your meanness is beyond my comprehension,' 6nid Miri im, looking at him with infinite disdain, as she stood, her st itely head drawn up, and her lino face—- wuose girlish