Richmond Hill Public Library News Index

York Herald, 19 Jun 1884, p. 4

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“ Not if I can help it. So you need not say another word. If you do, I will report you to Marmaduke as a dangerous little match-maker, and perhaps marry Captain Jenkins. I have really met more disagree~ “indeed I shall,” says Miss Beatoun, petulantly ; “ I shall flirt as hard as ever I can with every one I meet. He shallnot thinkI am dying of chagrin and disap- pointmgnht’.’ . “And will you not even a eak toL Chandos ‘2" p 0rd “ How could he, when you devoted your self in such & provokingly open manner to that ridiculous boy, and afterwards allowed Captain Jenkins to monopolize you exclu- sively ? I wish! B_t_abe, you vzould not.” ” Of course. There are so few pretty people in the world," with a. smile. " The change you saw in him to-nighb,Phyllis, was probably surpnse ; or perhaps disgust, at finding himself so unexpectedly thrown agaiuinto my society. He did not once address me during tlge evening.” There was a. little uniukuu that was shut up in a “And does still. I am sure of 117. His whole face changed when he saw you this evening. I remarked it, though I am not generally famous for keen observation. It is impossible he can have forgotten you, Bebe." shell He thouéht to himself, “ I'm sure I cannot tell tht 173m walled in here forâ€"a shocking coop I He yam out in the barnyard one lovely morn in ” If he lovés you he will think no bad of you.” “ You do well to say‘if.’ I don't eup- pose he does love me now. He did once.” Ber arms tighten round me, althoughl think for the moment she has forgotten me and everything and is looking back upon the past. After a. little while she says, agam, “ Yes, he did love me once.” find, Unlined for a. chicken with an enterprising mind.” May. Each hen he found spring-cleaning in the only proper way ; “ Thifayard is much too narrowâ€"a. shocking coop 1 nd Unfitted Ifor a, chicken with an enterprising mind.” ” No, never, never. Do you think it? I refused him when he was poor; I would not accept him now he is rich. How could you ever imagine it? Even were he to ask me again (which, believe me, is the most unlikely thing that could happen). I would give him the same answer. He may think me heartless; he shall not think me so mean a. thing as thqt.” Ho crap}: to a. gateway and slipped betwixt n crack, The won-11 stretched wide before him, audjuat as widely back; “ Tfiisfiwtgld is much too narrowâ€"a. shocking coop ll ‘ Unfittad for 9. chicken with an enterprising mind." “ I know you will be very angry with me,” I my presently, “ but I must say it. Perlggps you will marry‘him 80mg time." "Ishould like to have Ideals, I should like to tread the stars, To gist the Unatminable, and free my soul from ms; I should like to leave this dark earth and some other dwelling,r rind, More ptged for in chicken with an enterprising mm ." “ I have not been crying,” she says, with wilfulvehemenoe; “you must not think I have. If you do, I will never be your fuend again. How dare you say I shed tears for any man '2” “ I did not say it, Bebe. I will never say it,“ I return, earnestly. She puts her bare arms around my neck and lays her head upon my shoulder in such a. position that I cannot see her face, and so remains, staring thoughtfully into the fire. ” Therem a. place where ducks and pleasunyboats go sailing to and fro, There's one world on the surface and another world below." The little waves crept nearer and, on the brink inclined, They {swallowed up the chicken with the enter» The tears rise thickly to my own eyes. yet I find no words to comfort her. I keep silence, and suffer my fingers to wander caressingly through her dark tresses as they lie scattered across my knees. Per- haps the greatest eloquence would not have been so acceptable as that silent touch. In a very ~abort: time the storm passes, and Bebe, raising her face, covers in with her hands. “He was very white, and his lips were tightly compressed. And I think there wereâ€"tears in his eyes. 0h, Phyllis" cries Bebe, passionately, rising to push her chair back sharply, and beginning to pace the room, “ when I saw the tears in his eyes I almost gave in. Almost, mark you, not quite. I am too well trained for that." “ I think I would have relented.” “ I am sure you would ; but your educa- tion has been so different. Upon this earth,” says Bebe, slowly, “ there is nothing so mean or despicable as a. woman born and bred as I am. Taught from our cradles to look on money and money‘s worth as the principal good to be obtained in life ; with the watchwcrds, ‘ an excellent match,’ ‘ a rich marriage,’ ‘ an eligible pm'ti,’ drum- med into our ears from the time we put on sashes and trocks. There is something desperately unwholesome about the whole thing}: “ Never, most probably,” kneeling down on the hearth-rug. “You see I threw away my good luck. Fortune will scarcely be so complainant a. second time,” says Bebe, WIth a gay laugh, laying her head down upon my lap; and then in another moment I became aware that 51.16 is Bobbing pas- sionately. Author of “Molly ann; “ The Baby," " Airy Fairv Lilian," etc , etc. “ A man cannot pine for ever.” I say, in defense of the _absent. Then, rather nerv- ously, “ I wonder when you will marry now, Bebe ?” “And he didn’t even kiss you before going away, as he thought, for ever?" I exolaim, unwigely. “ 0b, 1 don‘t know. I suppose it would have been unusual," I return. overwhelmed with confusion. “ Only it seemed to me â€"I mean it is so good to be kissed by one we love." "Is it?” coldly. “I am not fond of kigsjng.” I histen to change the subject. “ When he was gone, how wretched you must have feib I" “ I wonder, when he became so rich, he did not come back directly and ask you all over again.” “ He knew rather better than that, I take it,” says Bebe, with a slight accession of hautcur; and for the second time I feel ashamed of myself and my ignoble senti- ments. “ He went abroad and stayed there until now. He don’t look as though he had pined over-much, does he ‘2” with a. laugh. - “ A broken hoart is the most cureahle thing I know. I thought I had never seen him look so well." “Did you never see him since ‘2" ask I, deeply impressed by her manner and the lovefflair gellexrlelyf r “ I suppose I did. But I shed no tears ; I was too unhappy, I think, for mere crying. However”â€"w1th sudden recklessnessâ€"“ it is all over now, and we have lived through it. Let us forget it. A month after the scene I have just described, the old lord and bla sons were drowned, and Travers Everett came in for everything. You see what I lost by being mercenary.” “Never limil to-ilight. You may fancy what a. shock 1t was.” “ Kim-J me,” severely. “ How do you mean, Phyllis? Of course he did not kiss me {why ehould he ?" firming mind. PHYLLIS. BY THE DUCHEBS. “ Are you coming ‘2” says the uutoomt, impatiently, from the first step of the stairs, I Em teefing Belf-i‘eproaohful and sorry, when Billy’s voice recalls me to the joy of the yreaent hour. 7 He smiles, but draws his arm gently from my grasp as he speaks, and I know by the lines across his forehead some painful thought has jarred upon him. “Hafizâ€"'1? It-Wftfi easily done. I am glad to know I have made you happy for eve} one phorfi flay.” “Thamk you for bringing him,” I say, earnestly, “and for letting him have the rains. I noticed that. You have made me very happy to-Qay.” able men. And as for Chips,” says Bebe, who has seemingly recovered all her wanted gayety, “ that boy 13 the most amusing thing I know. He is perfectly adorable. And so handsome as he is, too I It is quite a. pleasure alone to Bill and look at him."_ Something in his expression touches me with remorse. I turn up to him and lay my gandppon his 8.11m: As I am drawing him eagerly away I catch sight of Murmaduke’s face, who has been silently regarding us all this time, himself unnoticefi. 1‘ Are you going away now ?" seeing her rise. “ Yes; it is all hours, or, rather small hours, and Marmaduke will be here in a. moment to scold me for keeping you from your beauty-sleep. Good-night, dearest, and forget what a goose I made of myself. Promise me.” “ Yes. And are you glad to see me,BilIy? Were you lonely without me? I was so lonely without you I But come upstairs to your room, and I will tell you everything." “ Oh, I’m all right," returns Billy, gm- ciously giving beak my kisses, warmly, it is true, but with none of the lingering tender- ness that zl‘araoterizes mine. “ I don’t thlnk a fellow alters much in a. month. Though really, now that I look at you, you appear very tall, too, and thin, I thlnk. We had such a. jolly drive over ; never wanted the whip the whole way, except for the flies." “ I cannot promise to forget what I never thought,” I reply, giving her a. good hug. and goryejgrt for some hqurg. “Still,Ido not go to bed. Her story has afieoted me deeply, and sets me pon- dering. I have seen so little real bona fide sentiment in my home life that probably it interests me in a greater degree than it would most girls of my own age differently reared. I sit before my fire, my hands elasped round my knees, for half an hour, oogiteting as to ways and means of reunit- lng my trlend to her belovedâ€"for that Lord Chandos has ceased to regard her with feelings of ardent affection is 8. thing I neither can nor will believe. “ 0h, Billy, Billy!” I cry, clinging to him, the tears in my eyes, while glad smiles fight for mastery upon my lips. “18 it really you? It seems years and years since last we were together. Oh, how tall you have grown, and how good- lookipg If I utter an exclamation, and, flinging my book from meâ€"blmd to the smiles my guetts cannot restrainâ€"J rush headlong from the room, and in another instant have Billy folded in my arms. Surely ayear has gone by since last I saw him. I am still vaguely planning, when Mar- maduke, coming in, orders me off to my alumbers, declaring my roses will degene- arte into lilies if I perbist in keeping such dissipated hours. “ Billy is coming home to-day,” is the first thought that occurs to me as I spring from my bed on the morning of the nine- teenth and run to the wmdow. It is a. glo. rious day outside, sunny and warm and bright, full of that air of subdued summer that always belongs to September. Yes,fa.st as the good horse can bring them they come. A moment later, and the dog-cart in full swing rounds the corner, while in it coated to the chin, and in full possession of the reins, sits my brother, with Marmadukeâ€"quite a secondary per- sonmsmillug beside him. Soon I shall see him fsoon I shall wel- come him to my own home. Alas,alael that so many hours must pass before he can enter my expectant arms! Bebe,who is immensely amused at my impatience, declares herself prepared to fell in love with Billy on the spot the very moment she sees him. 01;, if afiynhing should have prevented his coming! Are not masters always tyrants? But even in such a case ought not Marmaduke to be back by this to tell me of it? I am just picturing to myself Billy’s chestnut locks berdmbbled with his gore, when something amines upon mine ear. Surely 111 is the sound of wheels. I flatten my nose against the window-panes and strain my eyes into the gathering twilight. “ I am passionately attached to boys,“ she says, meeting me in the corridor about halfâ€"past three (I am in such a rambling, unsettled condition as compels me to walk from pillar to post all day) ; “ I like their society-Witness my devotion to Chipsâ€" and they like mine. But for all that, I shall be nowhere with your Billy; you have another guest in your house who will take his heart by storm.” “ Whom do you mean ‘2” “Lady Blanche Gomg. I never yet saw the boy who could resist her. Is it not odd? Is she not the last person one would select as a favorite with youth?” “ Oh, I quite forgot your brother is com- ing," she says, with a faint smile, bending over her work again. She looks as though she were pityiug my youthful enthusiasm. I make no reply. A quarter past six. Surely they ought to be here by this. Twentyrfive minutes past six! I rise, regardless of comment, and gaze up the avenue. “ I hope he will not like her,” I cry, impulswely; then, feeling myself, without cause, ungraeioua, “ that isâ€"~of course I do not mean nhatâ€"onlerâ€"” “ No; not? earlier than usual. It was a mere whim of mine getting my dressing over so soon.” “Oh, yes, you do,” says Miss Beutoun, coolly; “ you would be very sorry if Billy were to waste his affection on her. So would I. You detest her ', so do 1. Why mince mat- ters? Bun for all than; your boy will be her sworn slave, or I am much mistaken. If only to spite you, she will make him her friend.” When I once more reach the drawing- room it still wants five minutes to the pro- mised time. Lady Blanche Going and one or two of the men are lounging here. She raises her head as I enter, and scans me languidly. “HDo v've dine earlier than usual to-nighh Mysiparrington she} asks, wiph egriosity‘ “ But why ? \tht have I ever done to her ‘1" Am a. quarter to six I run upstairs and get myself dressed for dinner-albhough we do not dine until halt-past sevenâ€"hurrying through my toilet with the most exaggerated haste, as it fearing they may strive before itis finished; and I would not miss being the first to greet my boy for all the world contains. “Nothing; only it is intolerable somebody should admire you so much." “Marmaduke,” say I, seizing my busâ€" band by the arm as the dog-curt comes round to the door for final orders, prepara- tory to shaming for the stat/ion (it is almost five o’clock), “ is William going for Billy? I wish I could go. You don’t think he will expectâ€"â€"â€"" I hesitate. And wiuh a. mischievous glance, Mlaa Bear touq Silaapppzzrs round the corner. Marmaduke reads my face attentively for aluminium! then ponders a little. “You think he may be disappointed if welcomed only by a. groom?" he says with a. smile. “Take that little pucker off your forehead, Phyllis; I will bring your Billy to you myself,” and mounting the dog- carv, derLS off to the station Without another word. CHAPTER XXX “Arid y6u really' think I am looking downright pretty .1” I ask, desperately, yet “ Very. I suppose”â€"with a. comical sigh ~“ all the men will be making love to you to-mght. That’s the worst of having 9. pretty wife ; she is only half one's own.” Then, abruptly, changing the subject, “What dear little round babyieh armel" stooping to press his lisps to each in turn. ‘ They might beleng to a. mere child.” with about six bulging brownâ€"paper parcels in his arms, that evidently no human power could have induced to enter the port- msutesu that stands beside him. “ Come,” he says again ; and, forgetful of everything but the fact of his presence near me, I was him upstairs and into the bedroom my own hands have made bright for him, while the elegant Thomas and the port- mantesu follow more slowly in our rear. "Bestiow a. little of your admiration on my bouqueb, it you please. 811' Mark had it sent down to me, all the way from Lon- don, and his man brought its to me half an hour ago. W'as it not thoughtful ?" _ “I lxké everythiog about you. I never saw you look half so well. I feel horribly proof of you]: "Are not the diamonds beautiful ?” exalaim I. “And my gloves such a. good fit! And"â€"â€"anxiouslyâ€"“ Marmaduke, are you sure you hke my hajr ?” “ You shall be painted in that dress,” declares ’Duke, warmly,“ and put all those antiquated dames in the picture-gallery 1n the shade.” *7‘7‘7Wh5m a capital room l’i’ says my Billy, “ and lots of space. I like that. I hate being cramped, as yglwaya _am alt 130131535 “I had £0 idea I could ever appear so presentable,” I say, halt shy, wholly de- delighted. “ I am glad you like it," I reply bubbling over with satisfaction. I settled it myself, and had the carpet taken off, because I knew you would prefer the room without it. But I desired them to put the narrow price all round the bed, lest your feet should be cold. 7 You won't object to that '2” “ 898 there," he says, “what aperiect little picture you make.” I stare myself cut of countenance, and am thoroughly satisfied with what I see. “ ‘ Well 1’ you are looking lovely," returns he, with enthusiasm, and. taking my hand carefully, as though fearful of doing some injury to my toxlet, leads me before his glass. “ Oh, no; it II any fancy for it.” I am about to suggest that as it is not intended for my bare feet it does not affect me one way or the other; but, knowing argument with Billy to be worse than use- less, I refrain. “Am Iâ€"looking-well?" I ask trema- lousb: h r "Have you any dressvclothea?"1ask, presgptlylaomewbafinervouyly. “M57 darling I” he says then, in atone of glad surprise, and comes quickly up to " No; Inever had any dress-clothes in my life; where would I get them? butI have black breaches and a black jacket (like a shell-jacket, you know), and a. white shirt and a black tie. That will do, won’t it? Langley says I look uncommon well in them; and you see when I’m dressed up and that, I’ll be as fit as the best of ’em." â€" He turns, and for a mament regards me sileqa}y._ “ Far hicer than any of them,” I respond, with enthusiasm ; and he does not con- tradict me. Standing dotionlesé, framed“ in 'by the por_ta.ls, I murmpr, “ Marmaduke." Having dismissed my maid, who professes herself lost; in pleased astonishment at the radiant spectacle I present, I go softly to ’Duke’s dressing-room door, and. hearing him whistling within, open it quietly. When the garments just described have been laid on the bed, Billy discloses symp- toms of a. desire to get: into them. I leave the room. When, half an hour later, the drawing- room door opens to admit him, and looking up I see my brother’s well~shaped head and alxght boyish figure, a. strange pang of delight and admiration touches my heart. I introduce him to Harriet, who is near- est to me ; than to Sir George Ashurst. then to Captain Jenkins; afuerwardfl I leave him to his own devices. I am glad to hear him chatting away merrily to kind Sir George, when a. voice, addressing him from an opposite sofa, makes me turn. It is a. most delectable old dress, rejoicing greatly in “ old point ;” and when I am in it and Martha. has fastened the diamonds in my hair and ears and round my throat and wrists and W&ist,1 contemplate myself in alengthy mirror with feelings akin to admiration. T56 voice belohgs to lady Blanche Going, and she is smiling at; him in her laziest, most seductive manner. “ Wont you come and speak to me ?” she says, sweetly. ” Mrs. Carrington will not find time to present you to every one, and I cannot want for a. formal lutroduction. Come here, and let; me tell you I like Eboni- ans better than anything else in the world." Having once made up my mind to the black velvetâ€"though Mother and Harriet and Bebe all declare me a. great deal too young and too slight for itâ€"I persist in my determination, and the dress is ordered and sent down. Sir Mark’s mouls'haobevmoves slightly, just: sufficient to allow his lips to form them- selves into a. faint sneer; while Billy, thus summoned, crosses over and falls into the seatVlweside her lgdyfiliip. “Do you, really ?” he says. " But I’m awfully afraid I shall destroy your good opmion of u9.You see, the fuel: is"â€"he goes on, candidlyâ€"“ I have so little to say for myself, I fear in a. very few minutes you will vote me a bore. However, you are quite welcome to anything I have to say; and when you are tired of me please When dinner is announced, Lady Blanche declares her intention of going down with no one but her new friend ; and Billy, proud and enchanted, conducts her to the dining-room ; while Bebe casts a “ what did I tell you ‘2” sort of a look behind their backs. Indeed, so thorough are the fascinations she exercises upon him that before the evening is concluded he is hope- Iessly and entirely her slave. CHAPTER XXII. It has come at lastâ€"the night of my first ball ; and surely no girlish debutante in her first season ever felt a greater thrill of delight at this mere fact than I, spite of my being “faced an’ married an’ a‘.”_ Béhold me in my room arrayed for con- qugab. r “A really charming face,” says Sir James, critlcizingly; “scarcely a fault. Quite a. face for an artist’s pencil.” And I feel my heart warm towards Sir James Handoock. Bay “ Mrs: Carringhon'a brother," returns his wife,_ with _8_4 sympathetic sgnilei “Oh, that your elders had half your Wit!" exelaims her ladyship, with an effective but bewitching shake of her head. " If they would but come to the point as you do, Mr. Vernon, what a. great deal of time might be saved 1" Here Sir James Haudoock, wakening from one of his usual fits of somnolence, actually takes the trouble to cross the room and put; a question to his wife in an audible whisper. “ Who is dumb handsome lad ?" he asks, sharing kindly at Bllly. (He was absent wheflmyprother firrsfientgredrphe room.) _ “ Oh, I say, don‘t call me that,” says my brother, with an irresistible laugh ; “ every one calls me ‘ Billy.’ I shouldn’t know myself by any other name. If you insist on calling me Mt. Vernon I shall funny you have found reason to dislike ma.” " And would that be an overwhelming calapifiy ‘27”, “ I should certainly regard it; in that light. I like being friends withâ€"beautiful people," returns Billy, With a faint, hesita- tlon, but all a boy’s flattering warmth ; and BO on. so ‘7" :39; i}: may remain, if you have Sixty cigars for every man, woman or child were consumed in the United States last year. withal very wietfully reading his face for a reply. I do so ardently long to be classed ampyg_the_gvell-fiavo{e§i pegpje ?_ “ I should rather think I‘do. Why, Phyl- lisl of what earthly use is a mirror to you ?” “ Araâ€"9.8 pretty as Dora. ?" with hesita- tion. I am gradually nearing the higheafi poinfi. _ The last bars of the waltz died out with a. lingering, wailing sigh. A little hush falls. . . . Sir George Afihurst, coming up, offers me his arm. (To be continued “ I know you do. Bun I am a. thankless being; the more I get the more I want. When a man is starving, to give him a. little only adds to the pangs he suffersâ€"â€"" _ " l’shawl Dora, indeed! She could not holydflav1 cgmdlle t9 youâ€"ftp beAemphatiro.” “Well, here’a' a kiss for 37011," say I, standing on tiptoe to deliver it in the exuberance of my satisfaction, feeling, for once in my life, utterly and diagraoefully conceited. “Well, you might. try to appear more contented,” I say, with a last feeble attempt at: remembrance. ” When I get; What 1 want I always look pleased." Marmaduke, however, appearing at this moment dangerously desirous of taking me into his arms and giving me a hearty embrace, to the detriment of my finery, I I been a hasty retreat, and go off to exhibit mgelfto momma. and Dora. i am not proof against flattery. A smile is born and grows steadily round my lips, untiLgtg_length myyholg face beams. “Perhaps I could; although you must; permit me to doubt it. I only know I would rather have you for a. partner than any one else in the room."_ His Grace the Duke of Chillington and Lady Alicia Slate-Gore have arrived. The rooms begin to look gay and very full. His Graceâ€"~a well preserved gentleman, of unknown ageâ€"adjusts his glasses more carefully in his right eye, and coming over, requests from me the pleasure of the first quadrille. I accept, and begin to regard myself as an important personage. I glance at myself in one of the long mirrors that line the walls, and seeing therein a slender figure, robed in velvet and literally flashing with diamonds, I appear good in my eyes, and feel a self-satisfied smirk stealing over my countenance. A curious smile passes over Sir Mark‘s face. “ Don’t I?” he replies quietly. “No. Decidedly the reverse even. Of coursc”â€"with a. considerable amount of piqueâ€"1‘ you could have found plenty of beater dancers among the people here." “ You don’t look," I say with inquisitive reproach, “as though you enjoyed it one bit.” I am dimly conscious that darling mother is sitting on a. sofa. somewhat: distant? from me, looking as pretty as possible and abso- lutely flushed with pride and pleasure as she beholde me and my illustrious partner. 7‘Yes, it has been 'morc than pleasant,” he says, divining and answering my thgigim. Bevin not enthusiastic ; and I am disam- isfied. Dora, 8. little further down, is positively delicious in white silk and pink coralâ€"the coral being mine. Her still entertaining for me the old grudge does not prevent her borrowing of me freely such things as she deems may suit her child-like beauty; while I, unable to divest myself of the idea that in some way I have wronged her. and that but. for me all these things she borrows would by right be hers, lend to her lavishly frofim all [shay I possess. H3 is a. little pale, I fancy, and answers my ggnile rafiherfilowly. I stop. breathless, flushed, radiant, and glance up at Sn.- Mark, with parted, smiling lips, 8.3 though eager to hear him say how delightful_he_too has fpgnd it. To-night, however, in spiteof the bewitch- ing mmplicity of her appearance, I feel no jealous pangs. “ For this night only," I will consider myself as charming as Dom. Did I ever dance before, I wonder? Or is this some new sensation? I hardly touch the ground; my heartâ€"my very pulsesâ€"beat. in unison with the perfect music. “ Rather think it will be a. severe season. You hunt ‘2" asks his Grace, in rather high, jerky tones, having come to the conclusion, I presume, that he ought to say something. “ Am I the ‘ smallest lady alive?’ Why, see, I am quite up to your shoulder. You insult me, sir. Come, dance, dance, or I viill never forgive you.” He passes hisv 8.11;] round my‘ waist, and infianother moment vrveiare vgaltziqg. A _I answer him to ‘t‘he inteilt that I 36 not ; that in tactâ€"lowering to my pride as it may be to confess itâ€"I would rather be afraid to do so. He regards me with much interest and apprrovm. 7‘ Quite right; quite right,” he says. “Ladies areâ€"haâ€"charming you know, of course, and thatâ€"but in a. hunting-fieldâ€"ia mistake.” She was the smallest Indy alive Made in a piece of nature’s madness. Too small almost for the life and gladness That oval-filled her. You remember her 7" “Youâ€" remind me o! Browning’s little I laugh. and suggest amiably that he is not yer-gaunt. W “ Not I; I am not In the mood for lee- tures. I feel haltintoxicated with excite- ment and pleasure, as though nothing could have power to annoy or vex me tonight. The very music thrills me! “Noâ€"no? really! Have I said any- thing rude? Can’t apply to you, you know, Mrs. Carriugton, as you say you have no ambition to be in at the death. Women, as a rule, never are, you know; they are generally in a. drain by that time and if a man sees them, unless he wants to be con- sidered a. brute for life, he must stop and pull 'em out. It takes nice feelings to do that gracefully, and with a. due regard to proper language, in the middle of a. good run. Charming girl, Miss Beatoun." “ Very.” “Pretty girl, too, in white silk and the coral.” “ If I told you all I thought,” he exclaims, eagerlyâ€"then choking hlmself with an effort, and a. rather forced laugh, continues ~” you might perhaps read me a. lecture.” ‘7You_a,re like an old fiioture. I cannot take my eyes off you. Who told you to dresiyogrselfA like that?" A “Myself. Is it not nice?” I ask, eagerly, casting another surreptitious glance at my youthful form as we move near a. glass. “ Don’t you think it becoming ‘1” At last the band strikes up and we take our places. Marmaduke (who is dancing with Lady Alicia Slate’Gore) and I are the only untitled people in the set. Neverthe- less, as I look at my husband I think to myself, with a certain satisfaction, that not one among us has an appearance so hand- some or so distinguished as his. The quadrille being at an and, Sir Mark Gore instantly claims me for the coming waltz, and, as I place my hand very wil- lingly upon his arm, Whispers : “You mean my sister ?" “ Indeod‘indeed? You must excuse the openness of my observetions. I would never have guessed at the relationship. Can’t discern the slightest family resem' blance.” He says this so emphatically that I understand him to mean he considers me far interior to Dora. I begin to think his Grace an obtuse and undesirable person, sadly wanting in discrimination. No doubt he is thinking my plainness only to be equalled to my dulness. I wien impatiently the quadrille would begin and get itself over, that I may be rid of him, more especially as I am longing, with a keenness that belongs alone to youth, for a. waltz or a galop, or anything fast and inspiriting. The back Widths of new walking skirts are very full and bunchy over the hips, and are worn over a. cushion bustle or with THE LADIES’ COLUMN. Full pleated overskirtzs are fashionably made with the front representing an out- spread fan, and the back is laid in pleats half its length and draped as a puff, with a. pleated ruffle below. Absurdity of Expensive Entables at Evening Gatherings. Keeping one or two oysters or quarry shells in a. teakettle almost entirely pre- vents its becoming inorusted. 1f akentle is badly coated, it: will nearly all scale off by drying and slowly heating in on the back of the stove. It must be turned from side to side as it cleaves off. Lnuwsl Fashion Notes. Embroidery on tulle and lace is the most fashionable trimming for summer dresses. It is used in flounces and for drapery, and for covering the entire silk lining of the waist. Sunlight in the House a Necessity to Health and Happiness. In an interesting and useful article on “ Simple Entertainments ” in IIm‘pzr’s Bazar, the writer wisely says: " As for the supper. do away at once and forever with all those foolish gatcaux which no one eats; those heavy meats and game pies which no one should eat; those fanciful spun sugar ornaments which are but the dreams of a dyspeptic oonfectioner, and all those dishes and ornaments whose after-fate is a mystery unsolved by any but the waiters, Who must carry them to some limbo known only to themselves. Barley sugar spun into every possible device, and cloud-capped towers of nougat, make a table look very pretty,but they are not necessary to happiness. The hostess who would entertain simply and well should abjure all these ventionalilies, and should determine to make her table pretty by her own devices. A tumbler set in a soup plate, the whole hidden with moss, and a few flowers put in, saythe primroses, or a growing basket of ferns. which may be bought for a few dollars, isa pretty orna- ment for a centre-piece. Several of these can be placed on the table if one wishes to make it very pretty. and ivy vines trained from one to the other make a lovely effect.” Sunllr Rooms. No article of furniture should be put in a room that will not stand sunlight, for every ‘ room in a dwelling should have the win- . dows so arranged that some time during the day a flood of sunlight will force itself into the apartments. The importance of admitting the light of the sun freely to all parts of our dwellings cannot be too highly estimated. Indeed perfect health is nearly as much dependent on pure sunlight as it is on pure air. Sunlight should never be excluded except when so bright as to be uncomfortable to the eyes. And walks should be in bright sunlights, so that the eyes are protected by a veil or parasol when inconvenient-1y in- tense. A sunbath is of more im- portance in preserving a healthful condition of the body than is generally understood. A sun-bath costs nothing, and that is a misfortune, for people are deluded with the idea that those things can only be good or useful which cost money. But remember that pure water, fresh air and sunlit homes. kept free from dampness, will secure you from many heavy bills of the doctors, and give you health and vigor which no money can procure. It is now a Well established fact that the people who live much in the sun are usually stronger and more healthy than those whose occupation deprives them of sunlight. And certainly there is nothing strange in the result, since the law applies With equal force to every animate thing in nature. It is quite easy to arrange an isolated dwelling so that every room may be flooded With sunlight some time in the day, and it is possible that many town houses could be so built as to admit more light than they now receive. Green and Yellow wilh ‘Vliilc Toilets. Very pretty audinexpeneive curtains can be made of cheese-cloth, and bordered with rick-rack or cheap lace, ruffled. The cheese- cloth waehes nicely and should be s’iffened with a. little thin starch. To brighten the eyes for a. ball or party, a very harmless device is to eat a. halt hour before leaving home a lump of sugar on which is ten drops of cologne. This genet- ully provaa effective. Never wash in warm welter before going out in the cold air. Such a practice will roughen the skin. Warm water should be used only before retiring. A hall window may be made very pretty by pasting on it stained glass paper, which can be purchased for a. small sum of money and easily applled. Prune Pudding.â€"â€"A nice prune pudding is made by atewing a pound of prunes till they are soft, remove the stones, add sugar to your taste and the whites of three eggs beaten to a. stiff froth. Make a. puff pasta for the bottom of a. pudding dish. After beating the eggs and prunes together till they are thoroughly mixed, spread them on the crust. Bake for half an hour or until you are sure the pudding is well cooked. To make a tasty dish for 1298., pick some codfiah, let it soak in lukewarm water while you mix two cups of cold mashed potatoes with one pint: of sweet milk, two eggs; 9. goodAaized lump of butter, and pepper and salt if it is necessary, then add the cod- fieh, mix well, and bake in a. buttered pudding dish, for from twenty-five minutes to half an hour. Serve hot. Cruata left from brown bread can be made very palatable by breaking them in small pieces and covering them with boil- ing Winter. Boil until they have become a. soft mueh, stirring irequently and adding more water 1f necessary. Add a. cupiul of milk and a. piece of butter, and let; it boil again until thick. This dish is delicious when eaten with maple syrup. Scoop out the inside of a. sound potato. leaving the skin attached at one side of the hole as a, lid. Mince fine the lean of a juicy mutton chop, with a little salt and pepper. Put in the potato, fasten down the lid and bake or roast. Before serving (in the skin) add a. little hot gravy it the mince seems too dry. This is called a. “ potato surprise." A New York letter says: By far the most fashionable colors to be employed by the modistes this summer in conjunction with the White toilets which are to abound are pale green, Persian mauve, and the many shades of yellow. from deliatec primrose to deep eoxu. White over pale- oolored slips will be very elegantly worn Transparent black dresses will be quite as popular, and the newest mode with these is to line the bodies only with color, the skirts being all of blackâ€"the bright color of the bodice-lining appearing in the rib- bons which loop and hold the soft, full drapings of tunic and under-dress. A Continual Feast. Soak one cup of dried breed-crumbs in one pint of boiling milk. Add one table- spoontul of melted butter, half a cup of sugar and five beaten eggs. Mash two cups of nice canned peaches and stir in. Put into a tin pudding boiler and boiltwo hours. Eat with sugar and oream. SOME ECCENTRIC TOILETTES. A Move in the flight Dircmlnn. (Aunt Kate’s Weekly Budget.) Around the House. Women ornament their dresaes behind because they like to have nice thmgfl said about; them when their backs are turned. “I don’t say that there is nothing the matter with them, but they willlaat you until you draw your last. breath, and you certainly will not have any use for them after that.” flounoes of pleated orinoline inside to sup- port them gracefully. Blue promises to come into favor again in such shades as zinc-blue, telegrulhrblue, peacock, Indienne and marine. It) is especially stylish when contrasted with deep copper browns and dull-red shades. “Is' there Vnothing the matter with them ‘2” Gold uet, thin tissues and embroidered materials are employed for the salt cap crowns of ospotes. Lace in fluted ruffles or velvet shirriugs cover the bum. Flowers in large and fanciful designs, butterfllee, fruits and mushrooms are the gsrniture. “You just go Bomb End don’t bother about your lungs."_ _ The doctor eiamined the patibnt’s chest, andgonsqled him by saying : _ A new shape in hats is the “ Dolly Dee,” a. modification between the capote and a small scoop. It comes in pearl; also in a beautiful needle braid. These should be trimmed with medium width ribbon loops, caughh down with insects. “ Doctor, please examine my chest. There is something the matter with my lungs,” mi} a. [pan far gong in_cpnsumrptiorn. Epauleta of pleated race, bows of ribbon, or clusters of satin or velvet leaves are fashionable, as they give the high-shoulder effect now in vogue. A triple cluster of large ostrich-tips is more fashionable than a oorsage banquet, and is placed on the left side of low aorsages. Medical llem. It often occurs that doctors do not care to tell patients the whole truth. An Austin doctor has a very neat way of encouraging the patient, and at the same time he does not devmte from the truth. ‘ Short dolmane with short backs. pleated, smullequare sleeves and deep fronts are made for spring in tan-colored elithe, figured brown or grey woolleue. black or gray Ottoman silk. and various red stuffs, such as cloth, velvet, or brocade and trimmed with chenille, jet fringe, or lace The Paris waistcoat is the name of a novel drapery of white crepe de chine or of red surah, striped with velvet ribbon and attached to the front of dark velvet or silk bodiees. It is gathered to a. pomt just below the neck, falls in loose drapery to the waist, and is bordered with Spanish lace. It is caught back on the left side of the hips by a. large rosette or loops of velvet ribbon. The most common headdress of the Norwegian women consists of a single kerchief of cotton, sometimes of silk, em- broidered at the corners. It is doubled, folded over the head and tied under the ‘chin. In sunny weather it is allowed to ,project over the forehead so as to shield the face from the sun. The corner, which hangs down behind, shows the embroidered pattern, and protects the neck and the back of the head. In the neighborhood of Bergen, however, more elaborate head- dresses are seen ; the patterns are various, but they are all more or less picturesque. In most cases they consist of a crown of white dimity held out by a light but stiff board ; both the kerchief and the red tapes by which it is tied hang down the back almost to the waist. In keeping with this is the blue bodice, worn over a white blouse, and held in its place by red and yellow shoulder straps. Still more characteristic and imposing are the bridal crowns worn in some parts of the country, particularly in the Bergen Province and in Thelemarken, where the primitive customs of the country are still preserved, though in other parts they are rapidly disappearing before the inevitable advance of civilization. i Your Photograph 'l‘nkeu “’hilo You are Going as Ens! as You (lull. Apottly men, with a. luxuriant mous- tache and a high round forehead, climbed up on a rotary platform in the middle of the big photohippodrome, at Broadway and Fifty-fourth street, one sunny day last week, and ducked his head under the cloth that covered a. photographic camera. A well-known broker wheeled his fleet road.- eter into the enolofiure, and as the horse and aulky whirled past the platform had just time to exolaim, “How d’ye do, Mr. Roekwood ?" when the luxuriant moustache reappeared, and the photographer replied, “Pretty well, thank you," and whisked a. negative plate from the camera, with the trotter and rig and owner reproduced in miniature. A young bicyclist rolled passed a few minutes later, and in just one fi(tietn part of a. second he and his swift-going machine had been captured by the artist. Today the blppodrome will be formerly opened to the public. _ I knew that women were various sorts of deoeptxons and falsehoods, but I never had heard oi a. false back to the heed,writes an English correspondent. When Maud was buying her bonnet there was a lady trying on ever so many. At last the wire of one of them caught in her hair and pulled off all the back part of her eelffure, which we had been admiring, because it waved so prettin and fell in such dear little curls on her neck and round the backs of her ears. It was not as though she wore a. false plate or a. chignon. This was. as we afterward heard, celled anuque, and exactly resembled the nature] growthdrawn up to the top of the head. Last night the artist stroked his big beard and discussed the new institution. " l’hotcgraphic art," he said, “ has reached such perfection that the camera has caught the poetry of motion, and we can make a picture of the fleetest trotter, just as he looks when spinning on the road, and photograph the owner before he can say Jack Robinson. And this isn't all. It is a Inatterof only a few months at furthest when horse races, boat races and similar events can be instantaneously recorded, and the negatives transferred by certain chemical agencies upon metal plates which can be used in printing for illustrated papers. The whole work can be done in less than two hours, and at a cost that will bejbsurdly low." " Mary, I want a messenger to send down town,” said a lady to her maid; “ the sales- lady has sent me the: wrong bundle, and I want: to inform the forelady of her careless- ness. Is there any one disengaged ? ” “ I think not, ma’am; the chamber lady is busy with her rooms, and she kitchen lady has visitorsâ€"her mother, the washer lady. and her cousin, the ash gentleman, having called. But perhaps the foot gentleman or the coach gentleman is disengaged. I will see.” The artist stepped to his bookcase as he spoke, and taking down a. bundle, opened it and showed half-a-dozen metal pieces of difl'erenh subjects, together with the proofs taken from them. The proofs looked like the proofs of first-class wood cuts. Mrs. Gooding, the wife of a. physician in Chelbenha, committed suicide recently in her bathâ€"room by stabbing herself to the heart with a. surgical instruments belonging to her husband. The deceased is abated to have been mentale depressed of late: The Queen and Princess Beatrice staly in_b‘cohlgmd 171711 Jupe 27th. 1'!) takes a. long time for a woman to get into the thirtiea,but when she does get there she spays. Among the most recent articles of orna- mentation tor the bonnets cf the fashion- able ladies of London are artificial lizards, toads and other reptiles. DON’T HAVE TO “’Al'l‘ For and About Women. will 11 VETERINARY MEDICINES. Address] with 363mg, DR. W. B. MASON & 00., Marshall Mich" U. I r m?» Polson’a NERVILINE, the great pain cure, never fails to give prompt relief in the following complaints :â€"Sprains, bruises, cuts, tic douloureux, rheumatism. spinal pains, neuralgia, toothache, lumbago, sciatica. Buy tJ-day at any drug store a, 10 cent sample bottle and test it in any of the above complaints. It never fails, for Nerviline is composed of the most powerful pain subduing remedies in the world. Get a bottle at any drugstore. You will be made happy. Ten and 25 cents a bottle. learn steam engineering and earn 9"“) per month Send your name and 100. in stamps to 13'. KEY?! Engineer. Bridgeport, 0t For parnicumrs a ply to HAROLD LAMBl Main street, corner ughaon sweet, Hamilton A fashionable New York bridegroom of a month is charged with having pawned his wife’s wedding presents. Cannot be disputed, and the case is yet to be heard from in which Putnam’s Painless Corn Extractor has failed to perform a. perfect cure. This with painless and rapid notion and freedom from annoyance during use. The great corn and bunion cure stands unrivalled. Sure, sate, painless. Beware of frauds offered as substitutes for the great corn cure. Putnam's Painless Corn Extractor. N. C. Polaon & Co , Kings- too, proprietors. Use no other. LIVE FOXES WAN TED, All kinds of flog Products handled, also Butter, Cheese. Elms. Poultry, Tnllow etc. Pat. Egg Carriers supplied. Consign- menus solicited. B3 Oolborne street: Toronto over-weightis said to beyoircfil’utfiihnga Utah. â€"No woman can live without some share of physical suffering; but many accept an inevitable a. great amount of pain which elm be avoided. Lydia. E. Pinkbam’s Vegetable Compound was invented by one who understood its need, and had the rare skill to provide a simple, yet admirably effective remedy. The latest pawnbroker scheme is to have ignorant persons sign bills of sale under the belief that they are pawn-tickets. GIBB & GALLOW The census report makes a very unfavor- able showing for doctors, especially at the West. The average for the Western States and Territories ie one doctor for each 524 of population, a proportion not equalled anywhere in the world. a Prat. Gollz, of Strasburg, lately exhibited a. dog possessed of no part of that portion of the brain which some physiologists cell the “ motor tract,” or the seat of power for voluntary motion. Yet the animal had perfect freedom of action, and knew how to effectually resist any interference with him at meal times. The printed volumes are many in which attempts are made to prove that such a. thing is impoeeible. U S. E., Lecturer on the Eye, Ear and Throat Trinity Medical College, Toronto. Oculisfl an! Aurist to the Toronto General Hospital, late Clinical Assistant Royal London Ophthalmic Hospital, Moorefiald's and Central London Throat and Ear Hospital. 317 Church Street Toronto. Artificial Human Eyes. For all of those Painful Complaints and. * * “’onknvnflen so common to our best *3] n * '- * ~ r lqu/llAlL ruru uA'A'Aun. " * “if 4 IT “'HIL CURE FNTIRFLY THE WORST FORM 03' FE- MALE COMPLAINTS, ALL OVARIAN TROUIILES, IN. FLAMMATION AND ULCERATION. FALLING AND'DIB- PLACEMENTS, AND THE CONSEQUENI‘ SPINAL WEAK. NICHF, AND 1H PARTICULARLY ADAPTED TO THE (‘IIANumoIr LIFE. * . * * it * 2: * * IT WILL DIHSOLVE AND ICXI‘EL TIYMORS FROM THE U'I'mnrs IN AN EARLY STAGE mv‘ DEVELOPMENT. Tm: TENDENC "l‘UUAxL ‘IIOUS IIUMOIIH 'I‘IIEILEISCHEOKED vmw mummy III II»; USE. * * * * 4, P * IT IIImovw I‘VAINTXESR, FLATULENC’Y, DEBTROYS ALL URAVINU FUN sTnIULANTs, AND RELIEVEB WEARJ r N or THE "I‘OMACII. JT mums BLOATING, HEAD-I AI‘HE, NERVOL.‘ I’ImsTIzATmN, GENERAL DImILrnr,i DEPRESSION AND INIIIImsTIuN. * * 4‘, 4' ‘n * ’I‘IIAT FEELING 0F BEARING DOWN, CAUSING PAIN, WEIGHT AND BM‘KIU‘HE, Is ALWAYS PERMANENer (:mm) BY ITS nan. * * * * i it . av * IT WILL AT ALL TIMES AND UNDER ALL CIRCUM- STANUEH ACT IN HARMONY WITH TILE LAWS THAT uovmm 'I'IIII FEMALE HYBTEM. * * * * . * Kirk‘s PI'IU’USI'I Is SOLELY PORTIIE LEGITIMA'IE HEALING 0F IIIsnAHI-J AND Tm: RELIEF OF PAIN, AND THAT IT DOES ALL IT CLAIMS To Do, THOUSANDS or LADIES CAN GLADLY 'I‘ES’K‘IFY. ‘w * * ., * LYDIA E. PINKHAM’SV * VEGETABLE COMPOUND}: * * * * * IS A POSlTIVEVCURE * If * *L * * * * *FEMALE I’OI’ULATION.* , *fi.‘ ‘ No family should be without LYDIA E. PINK!” LIVER PILLS. They cure Constipamm, Biljonsnesu Torpidity of the Livvr. 2?) ('(‘nts per box. " . ' * * F01: Tm: CURE 0F KIDNEY COMPLAINTS m EITHER max Tms REMEDY IS UNSURPASSED. * ' * LYDIA E. PINKTIAM’S VEGETABLE COMPOUND ll prepared at Lynn, Mass. Price 31. Six bottles for 35. Sold by all drugm‘sfs. Sent bymnil, postage puid,1nform of Pills or anc'ngos (m reuuipt of price as above. MEI. l’inkhmn’s “Guide to Health” will be mailod free to In: Lady sanding stamp. Letters confidentially answered. When 1 say (:urol uu nun mom . ornly onll mam Fur n time and than have ‘lu-m rvrum uguim I menu a. rudL (:ul cure. I have mqu Hm (“RHISO of FITS EPILEPSY nr FALLING SICKNESS? 1» Jim lung sluth I warrant my remedy to cure the \vowm (- 1w: Ih-vuuno mhers have fuiled In no Human for n“ ma roovIving a cure. Sendac once for n trmltlso an n I' m 13mm; of my humble remedy. Give Express and 14M, (mice. It costs you nothing! r u trlul, 1nd} \ 'H (‘III'H yum I (HIRE EITS' Who" I uv l-In'n I Hn mu mmm nnrl'lvtn 3.10“ Hmm I A couptgefieib (19118.; ot_ TailVer and GENTS 7 WANTED TO SELE â€"EITHERâ€" CUBS OR FULL GROWN. EYE, EAR AND THROAT. ‘R. G. s. RYEâ€"RSON, L. R. (LP. Minh fih-nnIm-n Iran H for u h ddrcss ESTABLISHED 1809. Universal ’l‘eslimony What It Will Do. I). (I N. L. 25. 84‘ 151:. I'lulvli to seems a Businel Educatxon or s mom-lam Pen manahi at t e SPENCER IAN B SINESS COLLEGI (l I will {'nrn you. a. lmow'~ ,53 Pearl St., New York.

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