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The brougham whirled Josine back from the station, and she made her way at once to Lady Blanche. Her ladyship was lying down on the couch in her room, and merely turned her head as Josine entered; her face was very pale, and there were dark marks under the eyes, telling of the agony of suspense and actual fear she had endured. Josiue smiled, and began taking off her gloves as she would have done in the presence of an equal, and Lady Blanche flushed as she noticed the action. “Well?” she said, her darkâ€" brow eyes resting on Josine's face with _feveris_b, _haug}_1ty impatieppe. “It is all right, miladi E” said Jo- sine. “Fortune has favored us, and Miss Carlisle has gone to London, to~ah,’ who cares where 1â€"by the afternoon train!” Lady Blanche drew a breath of relief and turned her face away. “Oh, yes. our little comedy haw finished splendidly,” went on J0- sine; “and it deserved to, for it was admirably conceived and car- ried out. But, ah Heaven, the trouble it was to convince made- m-oiselle that milord could be false I” “You think that all is safe," she said, coldly, “whereas I can see that we are at only the beginning of the affair. Do you think that Lord Norman will not write to her â€"-follow her? Jesine, I fear that this will end badly. I am sorry thatâ€"that I was tempted to have anything to do with it." And she began to pace the {00111. Lady Blanche leaned her face on her hand and frowned. josine lboked tempfigogply. “Miladi Loses courage when the battle is over,” she said. “Bah! there is little sense‘ in that. Par- don !”â€"for Lady Blanche had turnâ€" ed on her with fierce vhauteur â€"- “Pardon, but is it; not true, miâ€" ladi? Is not mademoiselle gone, never to return ?" Lady Blanche smiled bitterly. “My poor girl,” she said, scorn- fully; “I fear that she will return, all too quickly, and that our pun- ishment will be as speedy. Lord Norman is no foolâ€"not a, man to be deceived and bulliedâ€"'f “Bullied no, perhaps; but de« ceived, yes!” ref/orted Josine, showing her teeth. “Any man can be deceived, miladi. Bahl it is ea- sier than deceiving a_womqn.” .- . “You may try," staid Lady Blanche, grimly. “And first, you will have to account for Miss Car- lisle’s absence. I have been going over the whole shameful business while you' have been away, and I wish to Heaven that I had had noâ€" thing to do yith it!" . The reaction had set in after the time of excitement and fear, actuâ€" al fear, had taken possession of Lady Blanche. “To acgount for mademoiselle'a sudden fllght 15 easy. I have two reasons,” sald Josme. “F1er here is this.” turned pale. "Ar-éfiagfi ivéng of pity, actual pity for Floris, shot through her heart, and then it, turned to stone again. " A‘HEV‘she took the telegram and laid it on the table. Lady Blanche glanced at it and fl She pushed the telegram {away with her white hand, petulantlyh impatiently. _ __ u. n n n “Lord Norman will follow .‘ar immediately he returns from Scarf. ross,” she said, with an air of. Con- viction. “Ah, well then, he must not see this telegram!” rejoined Jos3ne. “And now for the other reason for mademoiselle’s diswppearancc. What if we say that she went e‘ff with Milord Cliffo.rde~fâ€"â€"" 'UIEdâ€"{Biliaghcrhe stared at net as if she thought the girl had taken leav of her senses.’ r _ “But it is no lie!” said Josine, coolly enjoying the amazement she had excited. “It is certain that Miss Carlisle was met at, the sta- tion by Milord Cliffo‘rde, for I saw 7 Lady Blanche smijed contemptuâ€" ously. ‘ “Viiénla'fif with Lord Clifforde!” she repeated. “What use would be such a. lie as that, which would be detected at once!” him I” “fie one» will believo that, my good girl 1” she said. Jovsine shrugged he: shmdders. Fighting Life’s Battle; CHAPTER XX. OR. LADY BLANCHE’S BITTER PUNISHMENT at her rather con.â€" “On my bare word? Perhaps no! But all the same. Milord Clif- forde was there, and traveled to London in the same car with Miss Carlisle! Others saw him â€" the porterâ€"the guard, who knew himâ€"” “Can it be possible?" she mur- mured. Josine laughed. ; “It is quite true, miladi! It was a strange coincidence, certainly, a happy chance. Accident is favor~ able to us, is it not“! Now see, what is easier than to put this tele- gram on the fireâ€"so”â€"-she flung the telegram in the grate as she spokeâ€"“and to say that we know nothing except that a telegram did come from some one or somewhere, and that Miss Carlisle did start for London at once, and that Milord Clifforde met her at the station. I make no accusations! No, Heaven forbid 1” she went on. with a smile. WI say nothing! Ah, no, I’ll not ‘say the telegram came from Milord *Clifforde? Certainly not! I do 'not say that it was an appoint- mentâ€"their meeting at the train butâ€"others will. All ' the ladies here who love scandal, and Milord Norman will believe them_l_” Lady Blanche sprang to her feet, pale and breathless. M fishy Blé'JHcâ€"hé gtood regarding her with breathless inteptnegs. “I shall tell no lies!” said Jo- sine coolly. “I shall tell the truth â€"~all but excepting the telegram. That I know nothing about, save that it (name! You see, miladi, that the trump cards are all in our ‘hant’i‘s; we have just to play them so! Lady Blanche sank into her chair again. Suppress the telegram! Another crime! Step by step she was sink- ing to the lowest depths of deceit and mental depravity. «an! And yet what could she do?,She had set out upon the sea of false- hood, and must drift, drift, drift with the tide of icircmmstance; "nu. yuv â€"-..- She must decide at once. In a short timeâ€"an hour or twoâ€"the party would have returned from the Cascades, and Floris’ absence would have to be accounted for. n a. iréfibled frown she got up, and going to her jewelâ€"case book out a. bundle of nqtqs‘. ” uvvn u“- Almost solemnly she held them out to Josine, who stood watch- ing her with glittering eyes. “Take t'hese,” she said; “it is the reward we agreed upon. I give “Take these,” she said; “it is the reward we agreed upon. I give them to you willinglyâ€"you have earned them. But from this mo- ment I will have nothing more to do with the affair. I know nothing about Miss Carlisle’s flight, and will say nothing, remember that: Tell what lies you please, account for her absence in any way that suits you best, but do not expect me to help you or to bear out any of your statements. From this mo- ment I wash my hands of the busi- ness!” And she turned away. Josine laughed. “That is well said, miladi. Truly now is the time for miladi to wash her hands of the affair, now the af- fair is done.” Lady Blanch-e started. “All is over and finishedâ€"yes! And it is quite wise of miladi to know nothing and say nothing; for her the consequences Will work out themselves. And as to Josine â€"â€" well, she will know nothing, abso- lutely nothing; and as to Monsieur Raymondâ€"â€"-â€"” 1 9,,, AL- aviz'ldy Blanche shook her head, and Joshua), with a, respectful court- esx, departed. _‘ 1 AL_ __,AL__ u.... “He, too, will be very glad to forget! I am going now, miladi. Is there anything I can do for you ‘1’: .H u n L L,__ LA__| 4v“ . Ijazigruiglanche started; for the moment she had almost forgotten him. y», , “V T-wo afterward the party from the Cascades repgrped. LLVAM Lady Blanche could hear them laughing on the terrace outside, and at the sound of the voices a, spasm of fewr shook her. How should she face them all, To her the Whole thing was a keen enjoyment, and in anticipa- tion she was reveling in Lady Bet- ty’s astonishment and perpl'exity. she, with so black :1 secret, so heavy a. load of sin upon her bosom? Josine, calmly and demurely put- ting out Lady Betty’s evening atâ€" tjfie, smiled as she heard them outâ€" 51 e. Presenthfiffiéy came {roeâ€"ping up- stains, and Lady Betty entered the room. “We are late, Josine 1” she said; "we must be quick.” “Certainly, miladi. Has miladi had a, pleasant day ’1” “It; has been delightful, Josine,” said Lady Betty, who had enjoyed herself immensely, and was in the best; of spirits. “Delightful! I am so sorry that Miss Carlisle was not with us. How is she 2:: “Al-Beutflt'erf Mademoiselle has gone out,_’.’.den_1}xrely. “I: “v”. 0-”- “Gone out!” said Lady Betty, shpping off her habit. “I’m glad of that; it will do her good. But she ought to be in by this time, or she will he awfully late for din- ner.’ “Miladi misunde-rsbands me,” said Josinve, suavely; “mademoi- .s‘elle has gone, has. left Ballyfloe.“ Lady Betty turned and stared at her. “Left Ballyfloe! Miss Carlisle! Now don’t be an idiot, Josine. What do you mean T’ dJosine pretended to ‘be aggriev- e . “Miladi, I tell you only what I know of my own knowledge! Made- ‘In-oiselle has gonaâ€"letr, up, She went by this afternoon’s train!” Josine' Lidtidied it up, but there were still traces of the packing, and on signs _o_f Flogis: p Lady Betty flung herself into Flo-ris’ room. With something liké a cry of alarm, Lady Betty darted back and confronted Josine. “It. is a, stupid joke!” she gasped. “Tell me it is, you Wicked girl! Where is she? Floris!” and she ran to the door and called. “Where are you 2” . .. v . n ..-- d-..v Josine stood with a. dark smile on her iace, and Lady Betty came back,7pair_1ti»ngA and. b'reatlllefs. mun, PmLALxua sun.- A: ........... “Miladi, it, is quite true, I do as- sure you,” .said Josine suavely. “Mademoiselle left Ballyfloe this afternoon. I myself accompanied her to the station, and saw her off.” "â€"I'Jady Betty sat open-eyed and opegâ€"moqfizhed. ’r‘v‘idrlilrdid !â€"and it is not a joke! Theyâ€"then, why she go 2’: ‘ ” USEe véould mrite! But why did she goâ€"why did she go ’1” demand- ed Lady'Bptty, in_ a _frenzy‘. “.‘IfigsinVe, fish’ruggved her {boulders andipurised her lips. “She left some message â€"â€" some note for me 2” said Lady Betty, a1- m-ost tragically. _ ‘u‘thgrg is it?” “N0; Slader‘noiselle left no note for miladi,” replied Jpsine, graxfe- iv‘i‘BVurt’méssAageâ€"ah, y-e's; she said that I was to tell miladi she would write.” “You obstinate pigâ€"Why couldn’t» you say so '2” almost shrieked Lady Betty, driven frantic by Josine’s assumed non‘chalance. “Mi‘lardi didn’t ask me.” “Ask you! And who was the telegram from?” Josin‘e shrugged her shoulders again. “Was she sent for?” "‘Yes, there was a telegram, mi- ladi.” “And then mademoiselle direct- ed me to pack her box, and order a carriage for the station; and 1 did so, and accompanied mademoiâ€" sell-e.” Jousine stared with well-simulated indignation. “flow should I know that, mi- ladi’! No, I do not know. Madeâ€" moiselle burnt itâ€"carefully burnt it.” I“Burnt it!” repeated Lady Bet- ty. “Wellâ€"and then? __ “Ah! but mademoiselle has not traveled alone. Ah, no!” said Josin-e. “The gentleman met her at the station, yes.” “And she has gone up to London by herselfxl” wailed Lady Betty. “Lord Norman will go out of his mind!” V“Th-e gentlérfian, you idiot! â€" what gentleman ’2” demanded Lady Betta, all. em; ‘ Lady Betfly gazed in; her openâ€" mouthved, then turned deep crim- son. “Milord Clifforde, miladil” re- plied_Jos_ine, demur‘ely: ‘ V “Miladi !” exclaimed Josine, facâ€" ing round and drawing herself to her full height._ “You wicked, gasped. “You Wicked girl!” repeated poor Lady Betty. “How dare you stand there and tell me such dread- ful lies? Misus Carlisle gone off with Lord Clifforde 1” “Oh, pardon, miladi!” said Jo- sine, sweetly; “it was not I who said that, it was miladi. I only said mademoiselle» met milord at the stationâ€"not that she had gone off with him.” “You wicked girl! I don’t believe a word of what you say! I don’t 'beli-eve that Lord Clifford‘e was there at all!” V Josine tried to flush, and man- aged to loqk,fiercely indignant again. Lady Betty could have bitten her tongue 0ff_. _ lying girl!” she “But’ yes, miladi. he was!” she insisted- “I myself saw him. He traveled in the same car with mademoiselle! Ah, you do not be- lieve me! Then ask the porterâ€" the guard, who knows him! In- quire‘for yourself, miladi! Why should I tell miladi a, lie? Miss Carlisle will write directly and tell milwdi what, I now tell her, that: she went from Ballyfloe with M1- lord Clifforde!” Poor Lady Betty sat transfixed. Was the girl lying? It seemed impossible that she should be speaking the truth. And yet, Why should she lie? What avail would lying be to her? What profit, see- ing that, as she said, the truth wouLd be known in a few hours? Josine held up the dinner-dress calmly. “Shall I assist miladi?” “Don’t speak to meâ€"yet! Tell- mc more, Josine! Iâ€"I am sorry ifâ€"if I call-ed you names that don’t belong to you; butâ€"are you sure that it was Lord Cliffoljdeu‘wn “Ah, but certain, miladi!” sr Josine, with a smile. “I know Ini- lord well. Besides, ,I spoke with him! But, and!”â€"with a sudden look of oompunctionâ€"“pe-rhaps l ought not to tell! I have betrayed ima/d-emoisell-e’ s confidence. " Lady Betty flushed: “Nonsense! There is no confi- dence in the matter I” “I am glad of that!” said Jo- sine, with an air of relief; “for \Miss Carlisle did offer me a large sum of money and though I did not take it, I should not like to betray her confidence. Lady Betty turned pale. Floris fled suddenly, without a. word of warning or explanation, and in the company of Bertieâ€"Ber- tie, who had been her most pasâ€" «sionate loverâ€"and Floris had of~ fered a large sum of money as a. bribe to Josine! "Grieart Heaven, What did it, mean, ii it; did not mean that Floris» had eioped with Bertie! R+++++++¢¢+o++++oooo++ Most farmers can estimate close- ly the number of bushels of grain raised, and tell fairly accurately the number of tons of hay grown, but when it comes to the really most important income of the farm the produce of each cow. it’s all a blank, and they say, “Oh, I don’t know, I get my cheque each month, that’s all I care about.” fi-H~H>++++++¢++++o++++t r NECESSARY INFORMATION. While a knowledge of the total weight of milk delivered at the factory is necessary, it never con~ ways to the farm-er the information he stands in need of as to the pro- fit made by each cow in the stable. That information is absolutely necessary to him if he desires to consider himself a credit to his pro- fession, a firstâ€"class. businessâ€"like dairyman. Otherwise these satis- fying totals or delusive averages will continue to allow the one or two poor cows in every herd to consume good feed for which no profitable return is ever given. '- In many herds where» no attempt at checking up individual perform- ance has been made, there is fre- quently to be found a difference of $30 to $40 in the earning power of the best and poorest cow. Farm- er-s need to consider that statement carefully. In the Dominion are to be found herds, let us say of 12 or 14 cows, with a fairly good average yield of perhaps as high as 5.500 pounds of milk, where the highest yield is close on to 8,000 pounds of milk and 330 pounds of fat; but where the lowest yield is only about 3,700 pounds of milk and 150 pounds cf fat. Such comparisons are only made possible by noting the actual performance of each individual cow for her full milking period. Weigh and sample regularly and make sure that each cow brings in good profit. Never dip the fingers into the pail while milking. Milk with dry hands. Carry the milk to the dairy while warm from the cow. It must not be allowed to cool before straining in the creamery, or putâ€" ting through the separator. Pulace flu; cream ii a deep earth- en vessel, and stir well when adâ€" ding fresh_ cream. Never churn until the last ad- ded ere-am has been mixed twelve hours and it has an acid taste and a satiny appearance. Ke'ep churning room as near 60 degrees as possible. Never fill the churn more than half full of cream. Churn at medium speed. Always HINTS ON BUTTER-MAKING. About. the Farm (To be continued.) over the granular butt/er, one-hall ounce to the pound for mild, and one ounce to the pound for salt butter, and one tablespoonful of granulated .sugar to ten pounds of butter. Mix the salt and sugar through the butter carefully and set away in a, dry, cool place for six to twelve hours before making up. Clean up fence rows, sides of ditches and uncultivated corners. It will not only improve the looks of the premises but it will help to keep down weeds on the cultivated land. use a thermometer, and in summer churn at 60 degrees. Open the veni and allow the es- cape of the gas a few minutes af- ter commencing thg churning. Strorp as soonvas the buttgrvbreaks open the churn and add a. little cold water. Churn a few seconds gently. un‘ til the butter is like grains of wheat, then draw off the butter- milk, and add cold water for wash- ing. Repeat this until water runs clear. On the Isle of Man herrings are [packed in ferns and arrive on the market in as fresh a condition as when they were shipped. Potatoes packed in ferns keep many months longer than others packed only in ‘straw. Experiments made with \both straw and fern leaves in the same cellar showed surprising re- sults in favor of ferns. WRerIrnove butter to the worker, and spirinlflg the finest! dr-iest salt Every farmer who wants to keep sheep ought to keep them, and adopt the best measures for their protection. Whenever a good ma.- jority of farmers become personal- ly interested, by having sheep of their own, effective laws for the (proper restraint of dogs will be enacted and vigorously enfiorced. Farmers should not wait for it, but engage in sheep husbandry as the quickest way to secure legislation that will thoroughly protect the in- dustry. The organic part of the manure pile, mainly litter, will decay when incorporated with the field soil al- most as rapidly as it will in this manure heap. In the latter its de- cay is principally accelerated by moisture and fermentation, and if not provided against. chemical ele- ments of value are volaitzed and es- cape into the atmosphere. Here is a. loss of fertilizing value and re- duction of bulk at the same time. If this manure were not allowed to accumulate, but put on the field, and mixed at once with the soil, or even put on some growing crop, its value as humus would begin at once, its bulk be at its greatest Volume, and the active plant roots take care of all chemical changes within their province‘s. Used by Huntsman to Decoy Wild Parrots. The New Zealand kakapo, or large parrot, with all its credit for brains, allows itself to be caught in a very simple manner._ In the dusk of the early «dawn the Maroris, carrying tame kakapos tied to long sticks, set off to hunt. These are the call bird's Who are used to attract by their screams the large flocks of kakapos flying overhead. When one Maxori tethers the cal). birds by the leg, and sets them screaming to the full extent of their lusty lungs, another cuts as many perches as there are men in the hunting party from the neighbor- ing bush. By means of flux bands these are lashed firmly to different; parts of a little hut or “whare”i (in which the hunters secrete them- selves), so as to act as perches for the unsuspecting birds. _ Each perch is so fixed that it can be drawn down into the “where ’A through the roof, On the perches. are placed running nooses of flax. and when all is prepared, each Ma- ori sits quietly within the “whare” with his flax cord in his hand ready to pull at the right moment. . The call birds are then disturbed by means of a long stick, and preâ€" sently a large flock of parrots, hearing their cries, wheel down and settle with a great chattering in the adjacent trees. One by one they fly and settle on the perches oi the “Wharev” to hold converse with the call birds, and when every perch is occupied a. Maori gives the signal and the nooses are pulled.i The huvbbub of screaming and; scolding as each perch with its cap- tured parrot is drawn down into the “Where” can be best imagined.[ It is only equalled by the frantic excitement of the Maoris as they; haul in their captures. Some of us never get beyond the kindergarten grade in the smhooi (-t’ experience.. I x NEW ZEALAND CALL BIRD. FARM N OTES.