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CHAPTER XLII.â€"FA0E To FACE. Tnat hint aobered him. He roused himself to actual notion at last. I: was now eight, and Elsie was 06 by the 9 40 I Too many thoughts had crowded him fast. Than single hom- encloaed fox Hugh Mus- ainger a. whole atomisy. . .. u- ,sLL -11.... “up. .. ....-.- -.e._._,_ He rose and dressed. himself with all ex- pedition, rememberingâ€"though by an after thoughtâ€"for decency‘s sake to put on his Hack cutaway coat and his blackest trousers â€"he had with him none black save those of his evening suitâ€"and to approach as near to a mourning tie as the narrow resources of his wardrobe permitted. But it was alll a hollow, hollow mockery, a transparent farce, a mere outer semblance:his coat mightbeblaok, but his heart was blithe as a lark's on a bright May morning. He drew up the blind : the sun was flooding the bay and the hillsides with Italian lavish- nees. Flowers were gay on the parterres of the public garden. Who could pretend to be sad at soul on a day like this, worthy of whi- test chalk, when the sun shone and flowers bloomed and Elsie was a'ive again? Let the dead bury their dead. For him, Elsie l for Elsie was alive again. He lived once, more a fresh life. What need to play the hypocrite, here, alone, in his own hired house, in the privacy of his lonely widowed bedchamber? He smiled to himself in the narrow looking«glass fastened against the wall l He laughed hilariously. He showed his even white teeth in his joy : they shone like pearl. He trimmed his heard with unwanted care; for now he must make himself worthy of Elsie. “If 1 be dear to some one else,” he murmured, with the lover in Maud, then I should be to myself more dear." Au! that he was dear to Elsie, he was quite certain. Her loved had suf- fered eclipse, no doubt: Warren Relf, like a shadow, had flitted for a moment in be- teween them; but when once he, Hugh, burst forth like the sun upon her eyes once more, Warren Rolf, paled and ineffectual, would hide his diminished head and vanish into vacancy. “ W'arren Relf 1 That reptileâ€"that ver- min l Ha, ha ! I have you now at my feetâ€" mygheel on your neck, you sneaking traitor. Hiding my Elsie so long from my sight! But I nick you now, on the eve of your vic- tory. You think you have her safe in the hollow of your hand. You'll carry her all away from me to England 1 Fool l Idiot l Imberile l Fstuous ! You reckon this time without your hostess. There's many a slip ’twixt the on and the lip. I'll dash away this cup, my no fellow, from yours. Your lip shall never touch my Elsie’s. Nectar is for gods, and not for mudlaiks. I'll bring 7 Lr__n L_L._- _. Why did no Answer come from Elsie? That pnzded and surprised Warren not; a little. He had begged her to let him know first thing in the morning whether she could pet away by the 9 40. He won- dered Elsie could be so neglectfulâ€"she. who was generslly so thoughtful and so trustworthy. Moment: after moment. he watched and waited: a. letter must; surely come from Elsie. After 8. while Hugh’s excess of maniaâ€"for it was little elseâ€"cooled down somewhat. He began to face the position like a men. He must be calm ; he must be sane ; he must deliberate sensibly: A.“ ‘m you down on your marrow-bones before me: You tried to outwit ma. Two can plav at that gums, my friend.â€"â€"He mind the bol- ster from the bed, and flinging in with a clash on the carpetlesa floor, trampled it in an ex- cess of frenzy under foot for Warren in \Varren Roll, meanwhile, by himself next door, was saying to himself, as he dressed and packed, in sober sincerity : “ Poor Massinger l Whats terrible time he must be having, down there alone with his dead wife and his accusing conscience l Ought Ito go down and lighten his burden for him, I Wonder 2 Such remorse as his must be too heavy to bear. Ought I to tell him that Elsie’s alive tâ€"that thatdeath at least don’; lie at his door Yâ€"thst he has only to answer for poor Mrs. Maseinver ?â€"No. It would be useless for me to tell him. He hates me too much. He wouldn‘t listen to me. Elsie shall break it to him in her own good time. But my heart aches for him, for all that, in spite of his cruelty. Hi worst enemy could wish him no harm now. He must be sufi‘ar- ing agonies of regret and repentance. Perhaps at such a moment he might accept consolation even from me. But probably not. I wishIooiuid do anything to. leaaexf this misery for him." Elsie we: going by the 9.40 ; and Warren Ralf would be there to join her. “ I’ll meet on at the statlon at the hour you mention.” at not unless Relf received that letter. Should he ever receive it? That was the qugstiop. . ..‘ v He glanced once more at; the envelopeâ€" torn hastily open: “ WARREN RELF, Esg.. Vills dolls Fontana (1’iano3°)." Then Wan-en Ralf was here, in this self-same houseâ€"on this very floorâ€"next door, p0: aibe I He would liketo go in and wring the creature's neck for him !â€"But that would be nah, unadvisableâ€"premature, at anvmte. The wise man diasembles his hateâ€"for a whileâ€"till occasion ofl'ers. Some other time. With better means and more pro- meditation. efigy. The relief from his strain had come too quick. He was beside himself now with love and m a, med wihh excitement, drunk with he and joy and jealousy. That creature marry his Elsie, foreooth l He danced in u {ever of prospective triumph over the prostrate body of his fallen enemy. 'Happy thought X If he let things take their own course, Relf would probably nave;- go down to the station at all, waiting like a. fool to hear from Elsie ; and thenâ€"why, then, he might go himself andâ€"wellâ€"why not ?â€"run awny with her himself ofl’ hand to England? Ifhe wrun the creature’s neck now, a foolish prejn ice would hang him for it, an. der all the forms and pretences of law. And that would be inconvenientâ€"for then he could never marry Elsie ! How inconsistent ? that one should be per- mitted to crush underfoot a lizard or an ad- der, but be banged, by a wretched travesty of justice, for wringing the neck of that nox- ious vermin ! He stamped with all his might upon the bolster (vice Warren Ralf, not than prodncifilg) and‘ gnashed his teeth ‘1 an, i the fu‘rfiyrof his Hatred: “ Some day, my fine fellow, it'll be your own turn," he mut. cared to himself, “ to get: really danced upon." I . . Y: LA 1-; 4.1.1....â€" L‘L, THE THREAD OF LIFE SUNSHINE AND SHADE. Bub no 1 The scandalâ€"the gossipâ€"the indecency l \Vith ‘Vinifred dead in the room below l He must shield Elsie from so grave an imputation. He must bide his time. He must simulate grief. He must. let a pro- per conventional interval elapse. Elsie was his, and he must guard her from evil tongues. and eyes. He must do noahiug to com- promise Elsie. ” .,L:,,,L_.,__,L from his slimy grasp, and leave him, discon- solate, to seek her in vain in an empty wait- ing-room ! It was splendid 1â€"it ws-s magniv ficent l The humour of is made his mauch water. Thare. now, would be a dramatic triumph indeed for you 1 At that very moment: when the reptile was waiting in his lair for the bowing, to snatch her by one hold stroke But looking at itimpartinlly, the straight road is always the safest. The proverb is right. Honesty appears to be on the whole the best policy. He hxd tried the crooked path already, am] found it Wanting. Lying too often incurs foflnre. Ilenceiorth, he would be â€" reasonably and moderatelyâ€"- honest. r Sfiiiha mightjuat go to the station to meet her. To sstiafv his eyes. No harm in that. Wily give_t_he note. a}: all the reptile? 1 . Excess is bad in any direction. The wise man will therefore avoid excess, be it either on the side of vice or virtue. A middle course of external decorum will be found by average minds the most: prudent. On this. 0 British ratepayer, address yourself ! Hugh took from his portmantesu an en- velope and his writing case. With Else's torn emVelope laid before him for a model. he excercised yet once more his accustomed skill in imitating to the letterâ€"to the very stroke, evenâ€"the turns and twists of that sacred handwriting. But oh, with whst different feelings now 1 No longer dead Elsie's, but his living love's. She wrote itherself, that very morning. Addressed'as it was to Warren Relf, he pressed itto his lips in a fervour of delight and kissed it tenderlyâ€"for was it not Elsie’s 2 His Beautiful, pure,noble~hearted Elsie To write to that reptile 1 What desecration Pa-h ! ls sickened him. _wl§x;h_ii2 Qiaiarnoh for long. The sun had risen. Before its rays the lesser Lucifera would soon efface themselves. He ran; the bell, and after the usual aris- tocratic Italian interval, a servant presented himself. Y our Italian never shows 9. vulgar bane in answering bells. Hugh handed him the letter, readdressed to Warren in a forged imitation of Elsie'a handwriting, and naked simply: “This gentleman is in the pension, is he? ’ . .. . . u “n At a shabby traitorta in the main street, he took his breakfastâ€"a sloppy breakfast; but the cofiee was good, with the exquisite aroma of the newly roasted berry, and the fresh fruit was really delicious; On the Mediterranean slope, coffee and fresh fruit cover a multitude of sins. What could you have nicer, now, than these green fitzs, so daintin purpled on the sunny side, and these small white grapes from the local vine- yards with their faint; undertone of musky flevbur? The olives, too, smack of the bask- ing soil : “ the luscious globe of vine-clad lands,” he had called it himself in that pretty song in A Life's Philosophyâ€"He re- peated the lines for his own pleasure, rolling them on his palate with vast satisfaction, as a oonnolsseur rolls good old Madeira ; My thirsty bosom pants for sunllt waters, And luscious glébe of vine-clad lands, And chanted psalms of freedom‘s bronze- cheexed daughters, And sacred gras’p of brotherly hands. That was written before he knew Winifred 1 His spirits were high. He enjoyed his breakfast. A quarter to nine by the big church clock ; and Elsie goes at 9.40. He strolled down at his leisure to the station with his hands in his pockets. Fresh air and sunshine smiled at his humour. He would have liked to hide himself somewhere, and “ see unseen," like Paris with the god- desses in the dells of Ida; but stern fact intervened, in the shape of that rigid con. tinental red~tape railway system which admits nobody to the waiting-room without the passport ofa ticket. He must buy a ticket for form’s sake, then. and go a little way on the same line with them ; just for a station or twoâ€"say to Monte Carlaâ€"He presented himself at the wicket accordingly, sud took a first single as far as the Casino. r Luigi bowed and smiled profusely. “ On the same floor; next: door, signer,” he an- swered, indicating the room with a. jerk of his elbow. The Italian waiter lacks polish‘ W'thh noted the gesture with Britiih dis approval. His tastes were fine ; he disliked fangiliaxzity. "6315; Same flmrâ€"as yet unchoked! And he couldn’t get at him. Horrible! horrible I In the waitingvroom he lurked in a dark corner, behind the bookstall with the paper- covered novels. Elsie and Reli would have plenty to do, he shrewdly suspected, in look- ing after their own luggage without troub- ling their heads about casual strangers. So he lurked and waited. The situation was a strange one. Would Elsie turn up ‘.’ His heart stood still. After so many years, after so much misery, to think he was waiting again for Elsie! For Elaie's sake he must assume some re grit fgr dga_d_ WinifiredL . 0.1 ~ u So he told the landlady with a sigh of sensibility he had no heart that morning to taste his breakfast. He would go and stroll by the sea-shore alone. Everything had baen arranged about the poor slgnora. “ What grie! I" said the landlady. “Look you, Luigi, he can eat nothing.” "As each new-comer entered the waiting- room, his pulse leaped again with a burst of expectation. The time went slowly: 9.30, 9.25 9.36. SSSâ€"would Elsie come in time for the 9 40 ! She never turned ; she never saw. She walked on hastily, aide by side with War- ren, the serpent, the reptile. Hugh let her p353 out on to the platform and choose her carriage. Hi5 flood of emotion fairly over- powered him. Then he sneaked out; with a hangdog air, and selected another compart» ment for himself, a long way behind Elaie’a. Butwhenonce hewaseeatedin his place, ethis ease he let his pent-up feelingshnvefreeplny. He sat in his corner, and cried for joy. The tears followed one another unchecked down his cheeks. Elsie was alive 1 He had seen A throb X a jump lâ€"alive ! alive ! Elsie, Elsie, ElsienElsie ! The train rattled on upon its way to the frontier. Bordighera. Ventimiglia, the Roya, the Nervia, were soon passed, They entered France at the Point St Louis. Elsie was crying In her carriage tooâ€"cry- ing for poor tortured, heart-broken Wini- fred. And not without certain pan 3 of regret for Hugh as well. She had oved him once. and he was her own cousin. And all the time, Hugh Massinger, in his own carriage, was thinkingâ€"not of poor dead Winifred, not of remorse, or regret, or penitence; not of his sin and the mischieffic had wroughtâ€"but of Elsie. The bay of Mentone smiled lovely to his eyes. T'-'e crags oi the steep seaward scrap on ti 6 Bny Martin side glistened and shone in the morning sunlight. Tne rock of Monaco rose sheer like a paintel's dream from the sea. in front of him. And as he stopped from the carriage at Mont Uarlo station, with the mountains above and the gardens below, flooded by the rich Mediterranean sunlight, he looked about him at the scene in pure aesthetic delight, saying to himself in his throbbing heart that the world after all was very beautiful, and that he might still be happy atlasb with Elsie. Hugh had not had the carriage entirely to himself all the way; a stranger got in with him an Mentone station. But: so ab- sorbed was Hugh in his own thoughts that: he hardly noticed the newcomer's presence. Full of Elsie and drunk with joy, he had nt- terly forgotten the man's very existence more than once. Crying and laughing by turns as he went, he must have impressed the stranger almost like a madman. He had smiled and frowned and chuckled to himself, exactly as if he had been quite alone; and though he saw occasionally, with a care- less glee, that the stranger leaned back ner- vously in his seat and seemed to shrink away from him, as if in bodily fear, he scarcely troubled his head at all about: so insignificant: and unimportant a person. His soul was all engrossed with Eisie. What was acasual foreigner to him, with Elsie, Elsie, Elsie, recovered? The Cssino gardens were already filled with loungers and children vgemblers’ children, in gay Parisian dressesâ€"but the gaming-rooms themselves were not yet open. Hugh, who had come there half by accident, for want of somewhere better to go to, and who meant to return to San Remo by the first train, strolled casually without any thought to a seat on the terrace. Preoccu- pied as he was, the loveliness of the place nevertheless took him fairly by surprise. His poet’s soul lay open to its beauty. He had never visited Monte Carlo before ; and even now he had merely mentioned the name at random as the first that occurred to him when he went to take his ticket at the San Remo booking-office. He had stumbled upon it wholly by chance. But he was glad he had come ; it was 311‘ so lovely. The smiling aspect of the Ipot took his breath away with wonder. And the peaceful air of all that blue bay soothed somewhat his feverish excitement at the momentous dis- covery that Elsie, his Elsie, was still living. Elsie was alive, and he must be a poet still. He must build up a fortune for himself and for Elsie. " And he took you for A maniac, my dear bo ,” the other answered with a. quiet smile. “ 've duly explained to him that you are not mad, most noble Moanlnger ; you’re only a poet. The terms, though nearly, are nob quite synonymous.” Then he added in French : “ Let me introduce you now to one another. M. 16 Lieutenant Fedor Rflflh- levsky, of the Russian navy." M. Rafiale\'sky bowed politely. “ I fear. Monsieur,” he said with s courtly air, “ I caused you some slight surprise and discom- fort by my peculiar demeanor in the train this morning.â€"To tell you the truth, your attitude discomposed me. I was coming to Monte Carlo to Join in the play, and I carried no lessa sum for the pa 036 than three hundred thousand francs u out my body. Not knowing I had to deal with a person of honor, I felt somewhat nervous. you may readily conceive, as toyour muttered remarks and apparent abstraction. Figure to yourself my situation. So much money makes one natu'ally fanciful l Monsieur, Itrust, will have the goodness to forgive It was a deaulrory London club acquain- tanceâ€"n member of the Savageâ€"and with him was the man who had come with Hugh in the train from Mentone. “ Hullo, Massinger,” the desaltory Sav- aqe observad complacently: “who’d ever thought of meeting you here? Down in the South for the winter, or on a visit? Come for pleasure, or is your wife with you? Whitestrsnd too much for you in a foggy English November, he '1" Somebody touched his elbow as he sat there. He looked up, not without; some passing tinge of annoyance. What a bore to be discovered ! He didn’t want to be dis- turbed or recognized just thenâ€"am Monte Carlo-had with Winifred lying dead on her bed at: San Remo ! Hugh made up his mind at once to his course of action ; he would say not a single word about Winifred. “ On a. visit,” be answered, with some slight embarrassment.” “ I expect to stop only aweek or two.” As a matter of fact. it was nnt his intention to remain very long after \Vinlired'a funeral. He was in haste, as things stood, to return to Englandâ€"and Elsie. “ I came over with vour friend from Mentone this morning, Lock.” “To say the truth," Hugh answered. frankly, “ I was so much absorbed in my own thoughts that I scarcely noticed any little hesitation you may have happened to express in your lcoks and manner. Three hundred thousand francs is no doubt a very large sum. Why it’s twelve thousand pounds starringâ€"isn't: it, Look ?â€"You mean to try your luck, than, an 91-05, Monsieur ?" The Rnasm smiled. “ For once,"he answer- ed nodding his head good-humonredly. “ I have a system, I believe : an infallible system. I’m a mathematician myself by taste and habit. I've invented a plan for tricking fortuneâ€"the only safe one ever yet discovered.” Hugh shook his head almost mechanically. “ All systems alike are equally bad,” he replied in a. politely careless tone. Gambler as he had always been by nature, he had too much commonsense to believe in mart- ingales. “ The bank’s bound to best you in the long run, you know. It has the deepest purse, and must win in the end, if you go on long engugh." ‘ Tube Rukan’s face wore a calm expression of superior wisdom. “ I know better,” he answered quietly. “ I have workei for CHAPTER XLIII.-â€"AT MONTE CARLO. years at the doctrine of chances. I've calculated the odds to ten places of decimals. If I hadn't, do you think I’d risk three hundred thousand francs on the mere turn of a wretched roulette table 2" The doors of the Casino were now open, and players were heginning to crowd the gambling rooms. “ Let’s go in and watch him,” Lack suggested in English. “ There can be no particuhr harm in looking on. I'm not a. player myself, like you. MM. singer ; but; I want: to see whether this fellow really wins or loses. He believes in his own system most profoundly, I observe. He's a very nice chap, the Psymaster of the Russian Mediterranean squadron. I picked him up n: the Cercle Nauuique M Nice last: week ; and he and I have been going every- where in my yacht ever since together.” “All right,” Hugh answered, with the hor- rible new-born careless glee of his recent emancipation. “I don't mind twog ence what I do to day. Vogue 1x galere ! I’m game for anything. from pitch-and~toss to manslaughter.” He never suspected him. self how true those onsusl words of the stock slang expressions were sum: to become. Pitchrand-toss first, and afterwards mun- slaughter. They strolled round together to the front of the Casino, that stately building in the guudiest Heusmannised Parisian style, planted plump down with grotesque inconvruity beneath the 10f y crags of the Maritime Alps. The palace of sin faces a. large and handsome open square, with greensward and fountains and parterres of flowers; and all around stand coquettish shops, laid temptinglv out with bonnets and jewelry and aesthetic products ; for people who win largely disburse freely, and many ladies hOVer about the grounds, with fashionable dresses and shady antecedents, bv no means slow to share the good fortune of the lucky and all too generous hero of the day. Hugh mounted the entrance stair- case with the rest of the crowd, and pushed through the swmging glass doors of the Casino. Within, they came upon the large and spacious vestibule, its roof supported by solid marble and porphvry pillars. Presentation of their cards secured them the right of entry to the salles defeu, for everything is free at Monte Carloâ€" except the tables. You may go in and out of the rooms as you please, and enjoy for nothingâ€"so long as you are not fool enough to playâ€"the use of two hundred European newspapers, and the music of a theatre, where a splendid band discourses hourly to all comers the enlivening strains of Strauss and of Gungl. But all that is the merest prelude. The play itself, which forms the solid core of the entire entertainment, takes place in the gambling saloons on the left of the Casino. Furnished with their indispensable little ticket of introduction, the three newcomers entered the rooms, and took their places tentatively by one of the tables. The Rus- sian, selecting a seat at once, addressed him- self to the task like one well accustomed to systematic gambling. Hugh and his ac- quaintance Lock stood idly behind. to watch the outcome of his infallible method. A very interesting equine curiosity, in the shape of a. horse absolutely without hair, ar- rived at San Francisco the other day from Australia. It was exhibited to a few con- noisseurs in horseflesh by the owner. R. A. Cunningham. The horse, or rather the mare, for it belongs to the latter gender, is a pronounced phen'omenon. Her skin is black and as smooth and fine as that of a human bein . She stands over fifteen hands high, and fa about seven years old. It would be dificnlt to find a handsomer or more shapely animal. She iooks well bred and is strongly developed. In action the movement of every muscle is plainly discernible by reason 0 the animals utter nakedness. Were it not for her abnormal appearance the mare would make a most excellent carriage horse. Any- thing more peculiar than the appearance of the beast, with her srrooth, shiny skin, black as ebony,attempting to whisk from her back with a hairless, stuinpty tail the flies cluster- ing there it is impossible to conceive. The softness and smoothnes of every part of her anatomy, even where the mane ought to be found, precludes the idea that the hair has been gotten rid of artificially, as by shaving. Mr. Cunningham purchased the mare in Echnca, Victoria, from a farmer, who utiliz- ed her as a buggy horse. And all the time, alone at San Remo, Winifred'a body lay on the solitary bed of death, attended only at long intervals by the waiting-women and landlady of the ahab‘ by pension. Oh, the typewriting girl, Oh, the type writing girl, With her debonoir smile and her hair Allin curl; And her finger trip- tripping all o’er the machineâ€"The slendereet fingers that ever were seenâ€"While my heart like the alphabet, jumpsup and down, Depending, of course, on her smile or her frown. And I gaze on the maiden so fresh and so pretty, and say to myself It 15 really a pity That she should be sitting there Thumpiug for money, WhenI am just dying to cnll her my honey. Then I slowly draw up Near the maiden so fair, And trembling- ly gaze On her shimmering hair. Then, never once thinking it may be displaced, I put my arm suddenly Right round her waist And beg her to be my type-writer throu h lifeâ€"Implore her to be my own dear little wife. She blushes and struggles and ceases her letter, And says, very steruly, “ You ought to know better 1” But stoutl I hold her, The dear little miss, And. dyouble my guilt by the theft of a kiss, And implore her again To be my dear wife â€"To be my type-writer the rest of her life. And then with a smile her Whole countenance lighting Says, “I will be your wife, But you'll do the typewriting.” Those individuals to whom social inter- course is most evidently a necessity of their being. and. who are the really dominant forces in society, feel this need chiefly us the necessity of securing an opportunity and occasion for the display of their on per- sonal qualities, not as the need of seeing the qualities of other people displayed for their own sake. It is the excitation of their own individual culture by the exhibition of the individual culture of others which makes them so desirous of the latter. Not the desire for communication, but the need 0f excitement makes them so sociable. They are generally people of very strong Self: consciousness. He Will Do the Typewriting. A Hairless Mare. (TO BE CONTINUED ) Sociability. A Japanese Girl's Dress. As an infant, Yum Yum dressies like her mother, and the girls of J span spend less upon clothes than do their American sisters. Spring bonnets the never get, for all wo- manhood here oe-t arehaaded. Skirts they do not use, an the long stockings and the high-heeled shoe never clasp their toes and calves. The J npnnese girl wears no gloves, and she never loses her shoe-huttoner. H‘er shapely little feet clatter over the street in wooden sandals two inches high, nn-l she holds these on by a white card, which, tied to the wood between her first two toes, crosses the foot and is fastened to the sandal at the heel. In place of stockings she has foot mittens, and these have s “ finger " for her great toe, and they do not come higher then her ankle at the leg. Above this comes her dress, and if the weather be wet she Will think nothing of pulling it up to her knees and in wobbling along with her bare mixes showing at the back. This dress, however, is a curiosity. It has no pins nor hooks and eyes to keep it together, and as for buttons, they are a foreign invention. It consists of a long robe made of silk, crepe, or cotton, and thisis open at the trout like a long jacket. When worn one side of it folds over the other at the front, and it is held in place by a wide belt or ooi. This belt is the finest part of Yum Yum's toilet, and it forms her girdle and bustle, all in one. It is four yards long and its material is as rich as her circum stances will warrant. Sometimes it is made of magnificent etifl' fabrics and loaded with embroidery. It is tied in a big butterfly bow at the back, and, though not a pin is used, it keeps its place and holds the dress perfectly. Yum Yum, however, does not want her dress spread out like the tail of the peacock. She runs rather to the pull- back and the the loose folds of the unstarch‘ ed stufl's, which wrap themselves about the form, showing its every outline. They impede the walking of the ladies, and the result is that the J epanese girl totters along in a half pigeon-teed fashion, and when she tries to run she goes ofl‘ in a gain like a cow. The dress in the summer is open at the neck and Yum Yum does not know what a. breast pinjs. - My wife made a girl in the country, who had done her a favor, a present of one and pinned it at her neck. The girl was delight- ed with the present, but she at once remov- ed it from her neck and fastened it to her girdle in the region of her bustle. The Japanese girls never wear ear-rings, and their only ornaments are on this belt. The belt is the costliest part cf the dress, and I have seen some which I am told cost as much as $100 and upward. The cheaper ones go as low as a few dollars, and some can be bought which are made of cotton and bright colours, and which cost only a few cents. For a. couple of years past the high life Pariaienne has recently eschewed andisplay of diamonds and jewels. Shapely shoulders and well-rounded arms have been left un- adorned, while bracelets, brooches and neck: hoes lay neglected in their velvet cases. This Winter 311 that will be changed and the ball'rooma of France will once more sparkle with gems and family heirloom. W0 men of Mexico. “Naturally, their position is not to be compared to that of European women. The Kirguia woman is always bought from her pan-ants by her future husband. As a. rule the payments are made in cattle, as money is scarce l mung these people. mum... w. ,- _. ...- ,u- v"--. â€" -___ -, I asked her if she dig not want: tougo still further, and I would take her with me. ‘far, far, very lar.’ She laughed and answered : “ ‘ Not yet ; but I see that my husband has the intention to take another wife. Should he do so, then, yes ; I will ask you to take me 8-Way, far, far. very far.’ ‘3 “id ' 311 right ; I find it is quite cor- rec . “ ‘ How correct?’ asked the husband. ' D0 7011 mean to Bay that your custom to have only one woman is better than ours, which is to have many of them 2’ “ ‘ Certainly,’ 1 answered. “ ' But do you not understand,’ he con- tinued. “ that when they are many they get along mulch better? Every one of them understands that if she ceases to please me, or if she is capricious I shall leave her tent and go to the tent of another wife and live with the other wife. So they strive one against the other t I be kind to me.’ “ I did not approve of this reasoning, and I said : ‘ In our opinion there is something more in the Woman than her persom Our women,’ I added, ‘ are united to their hus- bands not only by the body, but by the mind, heart soul.’ 1,:,,; .-n . u mluu, «~â€"â€" v u i What !’ he exclaimed. ' But if my wife by accident should lose an eye, and be bind in one eye for life? Do you mean to say that I must remain with her for the rest of my life 2" " Certainly,’ I answered. “ Then the Kirguis chief spat in disgust on the floor of the tent, and exclaimed : ‘ What a. miserable law 1‘ "â€"New York Herald. “A charming and good nature‘ girl can be purchased for, any one hundred horses, ten or twenty camels and a few hundred sheep, in addition to alerge tent, some cloth and some money. if the 1mm has any. Once the price of the girl is settled upon and one- half or one-third of the amount is paid the future husband can come to the tent: of the girl's father, and is even allowed to remain there with her in the absence of the girl’s parents, but only for 3 short tune. “ A: the Kirguis woman I refer to was speaking of the fact: that the tribe con- templated moving to fresh paeturages and showed he1_F joy in the prosgeobe of a change, ” I remember A charming young woman who was bought: by her husband for 150 horses. As the husband was very old and she was the third wife, and moreover as she bore him no children, she was beaten nearly every day and finally came to me for con- solarion. I have a. sketch of her in one of my albums, and you will see that she is a. most beautiful woman. Unfortunately. I could noo change her position, and I fear that if her husband is not dead she is still beaten every day. “The Kirguis look on their women, as I learned from actual conversation with a Klrguia chief, who introduced me to his young and pretty wife, as having no other object: in life than to via each with other wives in their efforts to please the head of the family. “When the whole amount is paid the husband on take his wife to his own tent. There in that country, as in Europe, it is not: wise to let the future husband take his wife without: getting from him all that: he has promisedfio giVe for her.