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14. WOMAN'S WILL; ! OR,
14. WOMAN'S WILL; OR, ENERGY REWARDED. CHAPTER YIIL Mi(S. HORACE. l0r "whether for right or for ■wrong', whether ^dv°^ or ^or ev^> i hud fixed herself in 811 *^esca'.s house. %fe Was, for the time at least, in a position of Q(i cf comfort. (She eould lie down at night ^DdiS'PeP securely; she could rise in the morning jj 6ilr no evil. Wijjji" dutioa were n< ither arduous nor trying. Did v*as no down-trodden slave of a capricious ^itt]°tUUa" i-'rom the first she ruled Lady s'-ewawitia sway tuat was almost despotic. pauses co*tributed to this state oi things; 8 OWn powers of resistance; the old lady's ^hich increasing infirmities, too, ca,iscd a p-i6siveness heretofore unknown, to her^a° rclY 011 Winifred—she even d< erred 6-fter v" Voung could never have attained, ue']naintance, to the pinnacle Winifred Bupe with ease in a fortnight. So much for ta,.t to rearwv3, and dexterity. Winifred now began It F the fruits of her labours. eELt er P^e'sant to ride out in the fine sprmg "-Plpa er, auud buiiding hedgerows and singing birds Well r1 to walk abroad well clothed, well fed, and *osy V'red for. Winifred's cheek grew round and k fLRer e^*e was bright, and her step elastic, She h "7ere l-'allnv days for her.; 0tr't'ti Uever heard any tidings of her husband. Vrjte tm,.8.she triod to imagine him successful. To *hatov° n> to attempt any kind of correspondence tiin8elfer> wonld be impolitic. He might present P^i^t Lady Wnittiesea's door ragged and fcif_rit' ? had heen a clear, straightforward arrange- To t, :Each stood on his or her own foundation, the ^hat Winifred felt no touch of interest in been orie with whom her early lopes had Short r^°Ciatwl, would be to maVe her out little is ,a nionster. t^he did feel an interest, but, af before, she tried to imagine him sue- intewt, irking' care, however, would begin to eat 'kPPear i rt of Winifred's prosperty. One rock *&e w above the smooth waters over which Ul, 8;iiling( and against which she might, after Thea t0 shipwreck- Mrs. Horace hn L I^°re scraps of information Winifred picked this ?U' in° Mrs. Horace, the more clearly defined lT>ear ^ecanie. hi, 8' Horace had a resolute will, and indomitable Ïl¡ tzo had Winifred. But Mrs. Horace stood >T strong position, Winifred in a weak one. frea? t!l,jro was Mrs. Horace, down here was Wim- ^1 Horace, by one stroke, might overthrow ^,fred. It was a woman against a woman. 'fc;f v and many a time did Winifred, in lrnagina- g jfoasure strength with Mrs. Horace. She knew 8if*C, her own vulnerable part. Mrs Horace would 6t, her to the verv last grain, and how could she the process?* Uj, ,Uo> she h,d the black and white agreement to °du e. But then what was that against a few i_ 8agreeable phrases, such as impostor, false pre- which might possibly be rung in her *—nay, which might result in a fatal disaster ? {i So speculated Winifred, and a dreary speculation II was I > She had absolutely no antidote to this alarm save t'a the favour of Lady Whittlesea. Lady Whittlesea, bereft of Perkins, who had gone P°rtie for change of air, felt Winifred to be absolutely dispensable. And here was Winifred's stronghold. There was no recurring to the past or reviving question of pedigree or references. The old ^.v was too well satisfied with her present arrango- tav -to ^or any inopportune discovery. The »T^0l^te stood on her own merits, and by them she ►stS be jud-ed- feor, Jt was tiresome, and puzzling, too, for Mrs. j »„! ■aco to be re urring a<*ain and again to the vexed t(Ject of companionship. ^Tot C0rr,iDo the first of next month," she Bdnerf' ii,and with me. I am quite deter- I 3ou shall have a companion." her 1 (|an'^ think what Mrs. Horace means," said Fou S^P to Winifred. "If she sent you, and »omr>vdli' s^e did, why does she want me to have ^Wyelse?" 3 'ruth Was s^ont- Hare she let out the v hole *« Yes b be expedient ? Honesty said, ,lKo-' I'?' Tn( ans and at all risks." Policy said, Win f £ ro"n(l's n°t safe at present." [She oK ed followed the instincts of her nature. Jjj00^ guided by policy. t>Ut S- Horace may not wish her secrets to be found And she- WB then she artfully ^turned the [subject into l''orn nnel" ^an Vr 'le next ten days Winifred woiked harder r' e'ver. Uy Whittlesea, pleased, flattered, fascinated, ^ere af°u ^avou I'ito's hands spell bound, and, as it l'h her mercy. tiSit lady seemed to regard Mrs. Horace's Jentlv ) t any great enthusiasm; but she evi- inifr upon Anastasia. One day she told t^arry 0 J'11 confidence that Anastasia was likely to Pr,yijlfra.'Jar°not; "at least Sir Philip Ormond is ulauglv^f addresses to her," said the old lady, ex- bfcrrv/ and of course we shall have him at Show- 5< ivi* tv>-4^astasia must be very young," said Wini- Yes kKn§[ of the carte-de-visite. er at'l 18 y0,111 ff- Sir Philip is twenty years t^sed «ft," said Lady Whittlesea, who was dis- 0 commmiieative. But then it would aaiIe<i sh J 8ucl1 an advantageous offer slip," thk ^'dedly. "Oh, dear, no!" ^°ndorin,r old lady sat looking at Winifred, and 8ettin» whether she had ever had a chance of VeJ"y clevp^>ed j because she is nice looking and hen T 'J thought Lady Whittlesea. KlQr«iiir;, i 7 Whittlesea, who was ta,lkative that ^'trideur n,f'^van to dilate upon the riches and the which ,^jr Ormond family, and of the estate to teini,r]{8 ^uihp had recently succeeded, all which Wl^ I'rofm/rwi heard with feigned interest, but Indeed t[ mdifh'erence. ears like L -j,0^ lady's words passed through her What wt B0no- of re the loves or the glories of Sir Philip danger •asia; to her, when Mrs. Horace loomed U8jy ln the distance ? „ I CHAPTER IX. R, R0PE „ OPEN WAR. Lady \v. •Y,1, have the dinner to a moment," '-tlesea. "Mrs. Horace never likes th %-V) arid^V May, a bright, balmy spring r^Sed f0r j. Whittlesea and Winifred were «^Pf'ctation mner' and sitting in an attitude of ^^STATI°YU^E WAS'GONE TO FETCH MRS. HORACE FROM oscitej ^hittlesea was fluttered and a little ^af on elt proud of the grand-daughter who lo°ked pa| of marrying a baronet. Winifred Passed, and" ti, ..COmposed. Her lips were com- re"aPpeared L 0, '18 which had faded into obscurity •narshneas w stood out with their accustomed in moved about the room as if restless her eager eV(18e' '^he least noise startled her, and Her heart WS looking out into the street. ^ress- By i asf. eating convulsively under her silk aP^roaching nstlUct she felt that an enemy was of ^tho hougea Carr^aSe"came rattling up to the door red t ewimniin„<V^rne(l quickly from the window, a mist b^d caught RiVv,^ ?r eyes> In that moment she b^t with purnlo f °t v°luminous folds of velvet, a purls. fathers, and a profusion of golden These thin r Oo dowt?n3ere jumhled together in confusion. l&dy Whittleapa ™e°t them, Miss Godfrey," cried ^Winifred Make'ha^ Settin8 rent down IMV short gasp. Then she rect. Moad^staucase, holding her j^head When she eot • » face with Mrs 1?r0 she found herself face B a law unto tho™ i 8 8eem 111 8ome cases to jese two women with i68* IQ a single moment jhatever, re»arfl'prl anJ' previous acquaintance nd dislike. ° It wn a& °^er with mutual distrust tflieve in her fellow-creatures0^06'3 10 di8" stood in the hall, her magnificent dress falling round her m rich folds, and giving her stately and majestic person every possible advantage, she looked like one whose office it is to crush. She had crushed many weak, defenceless women, and swept them from her path like insects women in subordinate positions, whose integrity she had doubted—women of the world, whom she had met once on equal terms, but who had since succumbed to her imperious disdain. i. In the circle in which she moved Mrs. Horace was paramount. Who, then, was this dark-eyed girl, who had taken upon herself to receive her—and to receive her with cool politeness, nothing more t She bent her cold, grey eye on Winifred, and asked (in a voice with a metallic ring in it) whom she had the pleasure of addressing. I am Miss Godfrey, her ladyship's companion," said Winifred, quietly. « What! And Mrs. Horace put her glass to her eye. Lid you s.iy her companion?" Now, then, mamma, do let us go up-stairs," said a sweet voice behind. I want to see grand- mamma." The voice, sweet as silver bells, touched W ini- fred's sympathies to the quick. It belonged to Anastasia. Anastasia had been speaking to Perkins, who had returned the day before. Winifred did not see her face till that minute.. "She is more beautiful than her picture, thought Winifred-" oh, far more beautiful! "I am very glad to see you, Miss Godfrey, said Anastasia, holding out her hand kindly and frankly. It is very good of you to take pity on poor grand- mamma." in "Anastasia!" said her mother, severely, "you forget yourself." Anastasia fell back'a little, that her august mother nr>ht rass up-stairs. As the velvet folds moved on with stately pride, she whispered to Winifred: Do not mind mamma. 1 am your friend. It was a curious speech to make. But Anastasia was used to drop oil into the wounds made by Mrs. Horace. Winifred smiled. You are very kind," she said, but I can hold my own." No two faces in the world could be more unlike each other than the-e two. Anastasia's was full of sensibility. Her blue eyes beamed tenderness. Where he got it was a wonder, for tenderness did not come of the Whittlesea stock, nor of the Horace blood eithl r. Yet Anastasia was the very creature of feeling and of sentiment. No possible process could have made her into a woman of the world. In 't, She was as fresh and unsophisticated as a shepherdess of Arcadia. We knov Winifred, and Winifred's history. Winifred did not enter the drawing-room. She retired to her chamber to think-to get out her weapons, in fact, and feel their edges. If she is proud, so am I; if she is crafty, so am I And the hard lines got harder and:more unpleasant. Prcsentlv Winifred's face relaxed. She was thinking of Anastasia with a kind of pity. For this world, with its quips and cranks, its pitfalls, its bleak and stony places, seemed hardly fit for such as she was. When dinner was announced, and Winifred took her place at table, she folt that hostilities had com- menced in earnest. It was evident that by compul- sion only would Mrs. Horace eat bread with her. Winifred entered the lists tacitly, and with the in- tention of acting wholly on the defensive. When Mrs. Horace tried to spike her, which she did several times during dinner, Winifred put up a shield, that was all. After dinner, Winifred would have retired, but Lady Whittlcsea desired her to follow them into the drawing-room. Winifred obeyed without any apparent reluctance. Sho brought her work, and sat in her accustomed place. She had the air of a person thoroughly established. Mrs. Horace, on the contrary, regarded her pre- sence there as unauthorised. She sat on the sofa in a half-reclining attitude, nearly covering it with her velvet folds, and now and then looking loftily at Winifred. Her looks said plainly It is all very fine, Miss Godfrey, but I shall dis- place you to-morrow I" Winifred heeded none of these things. She held fast by the old lady. Just at this juncture Lady Whittlesea said to her daughter: And pray when is Harry King coming ? Winifred knew that Harry King was a poor rela- tion much snubbed by Mrs. Horace; upon whom he was dependent. She had heard him spoken of as residing at Whittlesea Manor in the capacity of steward or bailitf. He was a favourite with the old lady, who employed him to look after her tenants. "When is Harry coming?" she repeated. "I thought he was to have a holiday ?'' "Nonsense, mother! he wants no holiday; he must work," replied Mrs. Horace, sternly. Humph! if vouTbend the bow too tight it may snap," replied th» old Jady, who always contradicted Mrs. Horace "besides, I want Harry." Then you can't have him, mother. He must look after the workmen. I have left workmen in the house." Humph! In my opinion the lad ought to have a profession," said the old lady, soon after. Profession, mother! Yes. I don't see why not. The church, or the law." Where is the money to come from ?" asked Mrs. Horace, grimly. Well, as to that- began Lady Whittlesea, but Mrs. Horace cut her short. Harry will manage my estate. That is pro- fession enough for him Nothing more was said; but when, soon after, Winifred and her patroness were alone, the old lady said, in a quick, firm tone Get out my desk, Miss Godfrey. I want you to write and tell Harry to come." Winifred obeyed with alacrity, and when the letter was written, Lady Whittlesea said, chuckling with delight: Now then put on your bonnet, and run with it to the post. I will have Harry I" CHAPTER X. A WOMAN AGAINST A WOMAN. "PERKIXs tells me you have taken an adventuress into your house," said Mrs. Horace. She was standing by her mother s bedside, while the old lady was sipping her chocolate. It was an opportunity for Mrs. Horace to speak her mind-an opportunity the old lady had planned not to grant. -he was very comfortable," she said, "and did not want to be disturbed." But, mother, you must be disturbed. That girl is not respectable," said Mrs. Horace, severely. "How do you know that?" said the old lady, looking up. I do know it. Pray what reference have you had P" "A reference to the Godfreys, of Dorsetshire," replied the old lady, bnskly-" as good a family as any in England." "But how do you know, that she belongs to Lhem P" She told me she did." Yes, and she told you that I had sent her. Fie upon you, mother, for being so cajoled! I never sent her, I was not likely." "You sent Miss Young, who was not worthy jo hold a candle to her!" replied the old lady, whose face was assuming an expression of dogged obstinacy. Miss Young was a gentlewoman Bah! don't tell me," said the old lady con- temptuously. Mother, it is my duty to protect you from ad- venturers. Let me dismiss this girl. I will pay her i quarter's salary in advance, which is more than she deserves." I beg you will let her alone," replied the old lady, angrily. "You have been tormenting me to tiave a companion. Now I have got one I mean to keep her." Mrs. Horace stood a few moments as if reflecting. rhen she said— You cannot expect us to associate with a creature like Miss Godfrey h" You may do as you please about that. I know Anastasia will behave well to her," added Lady Whittlesea, with emphasis. I have a great mimd to go home," said Mrs. Horace, watching the effect of her threat. Do, if you like. It will be silly of you," said Lady Whittlesea. Mrs. Horace, completely baffled, stalked from the room. Lady Whittlesea chuckled a little, and then rang the bell for Perkins to come and dress her. Now, Perkins, if I hear that you are saying a were. against Miss Godfrey I shall send you about yeur business this very minute." So admirably had Winnifred played her cards! Meantime Mrs. Horace swept into tho drawing- room. Winifred was there alone. She was watering Lady Whittlesea's geraniums. j. Miss Godfrey," said Mrs. Horace, sharply, I wish to speak to you." Winifred looked at her arch foe with an air of im- perturbable coolness. She did not even set down her watering-can. Perhaps you would be so good as tc attend to me," said Mrs. Horace, with some displeasure. "I am attending," replied Winifred, coolly. Mrs. Horace bit her lip. There was no parallel to the insolence of this girl I I wish to acquaint you, Miss Godfrey, with the fact that your presence is objectionable to me," said she. "Yery likely. I regret it should be so," replied Winifred, briskly; "but allow me to remind you that I am not your companion." Upon my word!" replied Mrs. Horace, choking with rage, your manners are peculiar, Miss God- frey. I never remember meeting with their equal in my life." r "1 always was peculiar," replied Winifred. smiling. This thing must not be," said Mrs. Horace to herself. At any price this girl must be got rid of. I have a proposal to make to you, Miss Godfrey," she said aloud. You cannot remain with my mother." "Indeed!" cried Winifred, incredulously. No, it is not to be thought of. An obscure and unknown individual, without references as to family or character Mrs. Horace paused. There was a look in Wini- fred's eye which stopped her. Sublime and all-potent as she was, she could not for the life of her crush this girl. Therefore," continued Mrs. Horace, I wish to EIfler you a sum of money, in consideration of which you will leave quietly and without disturbance. Suppose we say twenty pounds. Will you leave for that f" No," said Winifred, quietly, I will not. Mrs. Horace gasped a little. Her breath seemed taken away by Winifred's audacity. Still, something must be done-anything, in fact, so that Winifred could be hustled out of the house before Lady Whittlesea came down. Will you go for thirty pounds ?" Winifred shook her head. For forty r" gasped Mrs. Horace, getting despe- rate. No, Mrs. Horace. I will not leave for any con- sideration whatever Mrs. Horace was white with anger and disappoint- ment. You had better accept my terms, Miss Godfrey, before I proceed to extremities." I am not afraid of you, Mrs. Horace," replied Winifred, looking her full in the face. It is but a woman against a woman." A woman She, the splendid, the magnificent Mrs. Horace, who left behind her wherever she went a train of glory—a queen, an empress, in her sphere -to be called a woman! She swept from the room in a whirlwind of indig- nation and of scorn. Winifred looked after her a moment, and then calmly finished watering the geraniums. (To be continued.) [
A TALE OF TWO TRUNKS.
A TALE OF TWO TRUNKS. THE RECORD OF A SHOCKING MISTAKE. "BETTER take it, sir. A regular bargain." And the proprietor of E. Jackolin's Trunk and Saddlery establishment, on West-street, thrust his hands deep down into his trousers pockets and assumed the insinua- ting grin that is supposed to facilitate business. But I wasn't expecting to pay so much," hesitated Mr. Ernest Elton, a portly, middle-aged gentleman, with gold eve-glasse-, a spotless suit of fresh broadcloth, and irreproachable linen. "I had limited myself to-" Only two of 'cm made, sir," persuasively broke in E. Jackolin, lowering his voice to a whisper. Couldn't be afforded at the price. A dead loss to the trade, sir. Why, we've got to sell them for a mere song. Five pounds! It's enough to make one laugh. Look at tbem zinc bindings, sir look at them wrought-iron clamps Just see the patent locks, sir, and the straps as a man might hang himself by and never feel it! Whv, sir, you might fill that there trunk with lead or granite and cart it to Jerusalem without starting a mil!" „ It certainly appears very strong and serviceable, said Mr. Elton, rellectively, feeling his chin. And, perhaps—although I had limited myself to three pounds." You'll never feel the difference, sir," said Mr. Jacko- lin. Dear me, sir money spent for a valuable article is as good as an investment. "Will you have your name painted on the end, sir ? We do it gratis." "No, I won't," said Mr. Elton, rather curtly. "I don't believe in advertising myself while I'm travelling." "And there's another advantage, sir," said Mr. Jacko- lin in a trunk of this re-markable style and pattern. No'difficulty in identifying it, sir. Ha ha ha Why, a man could tell it in Arabia or Lower Japan So Mr. Elton bought the trunk, ordered it to be sent to his address, and went his way rejoicing. Mrs. Elton-Rhe was a sharp-nosed lady, a few years older than her liege lord, and given to unreasoning jea- lousy—put on her spectacles to look at the new purchase. "How much did you give for it, Elton?" she demanded. Three pounds, my love," Mr. Elton responded, with a mental reservation of the other two. Two too much," was the conjugal comment. But as, according to Mrs. Elton's views of social economy, her spouse invariably paid too much for everything he bought, he t'-ade no attempt to justify himself, but went on laying t his shirts, socks, and slippers for a pro- jected commercial trip. I suppose you couldn't wait until next week," said Mrs. Elton, stirring a curiously smelling compound in a small stone basin. "For I really think my cold would be enough better to ——— Quite out of the question, Sarah, my dear, quite out of the question," Mr. Elton hurriedly answered. Flint and Steel regard it as essential that I should go at once, preparatory to the opening of the spring trade." Mrs. Elton sneezed out her regrets. She never allowed Mr. Elton to go travelling without her when she could help it; but Providence and influenza were too strong for her upon this occasion. I know you'll get into some scrape, Elton, if I'm not with you," sighed she. You're as thoughtless as a child, and I hope not, my love," said Mr. Elton, secretly ex- ultant. It wasn't often he had the privilege of being his own master, and he felt like a boy just let out of school. Miss Tabitha West bought the second great bargain" at the trunk and saddlery establishment on West-street. She was an old maid of the old maidiest description, lean, lank, and sullen, with not a great deal of money to spare but she was going on a visit to her cousin's up in Yorkshire, where there were two or three eligible old bachelors, and she resolved to go in style, or perish in the attempt. I don't want one of your band-boxes that'll smash up the minute the porter dumps it on the railway platform," said she. I want a real good, substantial- We can suit you exactly, ma'am," said Mr. jackolin, rubbing his hands gleefully together. "Only two of 'em made. Too good Ha ha ha Just sold the other one at a loss, and as you're a lady we'll do equally well by you." Fate is an irresponsible agent, as we are taught to be- lieve but there is a deal of sly waggery about Fate, after all. Else, how did it happen that Mr. Elton and Miss Tabitha West met on the Great Northern train that gusty February night, about two weeks subsequently ? Tabitha was jubilant, as she thought of Miss Sarepta and Barbara Blackmore, and the two Mr. Blackmores. Mr. Elton, who sat directly across the aisle of the rail- way car, was more dejected. Mrs. Elton had recovered from her cold, and telegraphed to him that he might expect her to meet him at the hotel in York. Of course she'll go the rest of the route with me," pondered Mr. Elton. Dear me, dear me, why can't women be contented at home ?" There had been considerable changes of train, owing to the break-down of a locomotive on the snowy road, and the passengers congregated about the baggage-car, when at last they reached York. Miss Tabitha selected a porter. Mr. Elton chanced to select the same func- tionary. If them trunks ain't as like as two peas," said Boggs to himself, as, his fares snugly seated in the omnibus for the town, he banged the trunks on the top. Guess likely they'll know 'em apart, though; if they don't, I can't be expected to Mr. Elton dismounted first. "York Hotel, sir!" cried the coachman. "This your trunk, air ? That is my trunk," answered Mr. Elton, blissfully confident that no one had a trunk like his. The conductor pocketed his fare, shut the carriage door, sprang to his step and rattled away over the streets at a break-neck pace to No. 92, North-street, where the celebrated family of Blackmore resided. Here you are, ma'am! cried the conductor, pitch- ing the trunk into the marble-paved vestibule with an energy that made Miss Tabitha rejoice in its zinc corners and iron clamps. 44 Now, then One shilling, ma'am Miss Tabitha unlocked her trunk in the presence of all four of her cousins. I've an India crape shawl out of Uncle Dixon's sea- chest for each of you, girls," said she, and a set of carved ivory chessmen, and a real Turkish chibouque for Charles and Caleb. And —— As she spoke the wards of the key revolved, and the lid flew up. Miss Barbara uttered a shriek. Men's shirts cried she. Mr. Caleb recoiled. Boots uttered he, in a hollow voice. While Mr. Charles glared, voicelessly, at a set of shaving tools and a yellow-covered volume. I wouldn't have believed it, Tabitha, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," said Barbara. A gratuitous insult," croaked Miss Sarepta, the elder sister. It—it isn't mine," squeaked the unfortunateTabitha, bursting into tears of mingled perplexity and mortifica- tion. Not yours ? Then whose is it ?" fiercely demanded Sarepta Blackmore. "Tabitha—Tabitha! I'm ashamed of you!" But if Miss Tabitha was subjected to obloquy and misconstruction, what was the gloomy cloud that settled above Mrs. Ernest Elton, when his better half taking calm possession of his keys, unlocked the zinc-bound trunk that the hotel porter deposited in their room, and beheld-a brown velvet bonnet, two China crape shawls, and a work-box. Mr. Elton she cried, jerking out the tray as if it burned her fingers, what is this ?" My things, dear, aren't they ?" unconsciously answered Mr. Elton, who sat with his broad back towards his wife, and the trunk that wasn't his, toasting his feet at the fender. Your things, indeed! Pretty things I wonder you don't blush to speak the words Slippers—embroi- dered handkerchiefs-ftuted under-things! Elton, I'll sue for a divorce. I mil She sank back on an easy chair making evident pre- parations for a good old-fashioned attack of hysterics. Mr. Elton jumped up and sprang to the rescue Ernest, whose things are these ?" My dear, I don't know." Is this your trunk ?" It's my-triink," unwillingly owned Mr. Elton. "But somebody has hocus-pocussed my things out of it, and somebody else's in." Ernest, that is ridiculous nonsense!" shrieked Mrs. Elton. Oh oh oh that I should live to see this day Go away, you false, unnatural, deceitful, double- faced- "Please, sir," interposed the voice of the hotel porter, there's a lady here with a big trunk as says she must see Mr. Ernest Elton." Call the police send for the landlord called Mrs. Elton. Coming here, her own barefaced self Well, I never did see such impudence Put her out doors Elton, how dare you look me in the face, and- It's my trunk cried Miss Tabitha, bouncing into the room, and it's as bad as burglary to open it. I'll have the law of you. Here you, porter, bring up that other trunk Go away, you bold thing piped Mrs. Elton. "What business is it of yours? virulently demanded Miss Tabitha. It's my husband Then wbat is he doing with my trunk? Is it —yow trunk?" faintly asked Mrs. Elton. L-dies ladies do pray preserve the peace soothed Mr. Elton. Don't you see the trunks are exactly alike. It's a mistake of the bus conductor. Madam," he ad- dressed Miss Tabitha, I hope you haven't Leen put to any serio 's inconvenience." Miss Tabitha was mollified. Mrs. Elton unwillingly confessed herself in the wrong, and Mr. Elton wiped the perspiration from his brow, wondering what on earth would have become of him if Miss Tabitha and the other trunk had not made their opportune appearance just in the nick of time. She would have got a divorce," said Mr. Elton to himself. 441 almost wish she had." Miss Tabitha took her own treasures back to the Blackmore residence, and made her peace with the four cousins. Mrs. Elton ordered a cup of tea to compose her nerves, and Mr, Elton bought a pint of white paint, and spent his leisure evening in inscribing his name in huge letters on both ends of his trunk. "For," said Mr. Elton, 44 it's the last time I'll be caught so." Let us charitably hope that it was.
MISCELLANEOUS EXTRACTS.
MISCELLANEOUS EXTRACTS. A MAN otigbt to carry himself in the world as an orange tree would if it could walk up and down in the garden—swinging perfume from every little censer it holds up to the air. THE FIRST LOXDOX Soup KITCHEN.-Ham Yard is a stone's throw from Piccadilly Circus. We were there but yesterday. It was fine, and there was nothing exceptionally distressing, only a throng of hungry men and women pressing six deep round a strong iron rail, placed to guard the door from ingress before the stated period. Although tickets are necessary to insure admis- sion, hundreds came in the hope of at least some of the "crumbs." At the given hour a stream of women poured in, and seated themselves before large basins of sonp. They were followed by as many men, who stood to their meal. All the ticket-holders were thus served, succeed- ing one another as the places became vacant. The super- intendent, who has learnt discrimination from eleven years' daily observation, picked out such of those as appeared to him most deserving from among the ticketless, and they entered at his nod. The soup was excellent. Each basin was filled, first with what appeared to be the crusts neatly cut by club- house domestics from the toast of the dainty or toothless and secondly with a steaming compound of meat, rice, and German lentils. It is from the in- numerable club-houses of St. James's, from hotels and restaurants, that broken meat enough comes to supply, in part, this feast for the hungry. And to judge from results, it was probably better appreciated than the repasts that originated it. One delicate-looking respect- able girl said, "It has done me good. I came out of hospital yesterday, and I am staying at a lodging house till I get work. I am a bead embroiderer. I didialt know where to turn for a dinner till I was told of this place, and the gentleman let me in without a ticket." A tidy woman, with a little girl, who sat near her, was similarly admitted. I came from Halifax, in York- shire," she said. "My husband left me, and I thoughtl should be sure to get work in London. I am a laundress, and they tell me I shall have better chance of work in a month's time." Why will everybody crowd to London ? Oh if people would but believe they are best in their native sphere As to the men, they looked more shame- faced than the women, and a few of them had an especially hopeless broken-down expression.—The Quiver. THE love of flattery in most men proceeds from the mean opinion they have of themselves; in women, from the contrary. SUNBTTBY.—The village of Sunbury lies prin- cipallv along the left bank of the River Thames, and contains several good old-fashioned brick-built dwelling- houses and shops. In Lewis's 44 Topography (1835) the population is given as 1863, number which had increased in 1871 to 3368 (when the houses are recorded in the census returns as 663), and ten years later to 3500. Sunbury appears to have been formerly a favourite locality for the residence of gentry, its sunny situation on the north bank of the Thames, with its pleasantly-situated villas, rendering the spot one of the most attractive in the immediate neighbourhood of London. Among the residents here at the end of the last century was the celebrated Admiral Lord Hawke At the eastern end of the village is Sunbury- place, which, at the commencement of the present century, was the occasional residence of the Hon. Percy Wyndham. The mansion is described in the 44 Beauties of England at that time as showing four fronts, and as having an ornamental pavilion at each corner. The opposite, or Surrey, shore is here flat, and of no very interesting character but the river scenery in the neighbourhood, with its evots and weirs and swans is pleasant and attractive to water-parties and fishermen. Both here and on the opposite shore are the pumping works and filtering reservoirs of two or three London waterworks companies. At Sunbury are the rearing ponds of the Thames Angling Preservation Society, and the broad reach of the river at this point affords good fishing for jack and barbel, and occasionally trout. Nearly 700 yards of the river, extending from the weir eastward to the breakwater, are known as 44 Sunbury Deeps," and are maintained by the Thames Conservancy. -Cassell's Greater Lo-lon. MEN in general are but great children. ALONE AND PENNILESS. — You have t. friend, a brother, if you will, in me, Alec whispered, gently laying his hand for a moment on her arm. 44 You will let me help you, will you not?" No one can help us, I think, in the world," she replied sadly still she clung to him feebly, and felt the better for his support and weak attempts at consolation, for all words seemed cold and hollow in the presence of such sorrow as theirs no earthly consolation, he felt, could avail them at all, and he hardly knew how to attempt offering any other. For a moment he stood beside the couch on which Mrs. Brand lay still, beautiful in her perfect repose, with a smile on her sweet worn face, and he mentally promised to be a true friend, Heaven help- ing him, to the girls so terribly afflicted, and then he led Doris away and joined Nellie, who still wept silently by herself in the sitting-room, and was already feeling better for the blessed relief of tears. That they would rather be alone he knew, so he quietly departed without troubling them with farewells and during the dark dreadful diys that followed, he proved himself a true and valuable friend. It was he stood with Davy as chief monrner besides Mrs. Brand's grave it was he laid the snow-white fragrant wreath on her cofnn and when all was over he returned to Clematis-villa and made brave efforts to cheer and console the sisters in their solitude. Already he was plotting and planning how he could help them without their suspecting his designs, for he knew now that they were entirely destitute Ernest Brand had never even dreamed of insuring his life-and Nell and Doris were utterly alone in the world, and penniless too. -Cassell's Family Migazine. TURCOMAN HosriTAuir.—A quarter of an hour after our arrival large circular wooden dishes of gattuk, or coagulated and slightly sour milk, were laid before us. In each dish was a coarsely-carved wooden ladle, wiih a handle IMn. long. A rather dirtv-looking piece of coarse cotton stuff was unrolled, disclosing three or four cakes of smoking bread, twenty inches in diameter, and an inch and a half thick. On these viands we regaled ourselves with as good an appetite as we could muster, for Turcoman good behaviour requires that when food is laid before a guest he should simulate, even if he do not possess, a voracious appetite. Turcomans, as a rule, need no dissimulation in this regard, for I have seldom met with one who at any given moment was not capable of swallowing food of any kind to an extent which would surprise dwellers in Western towns. Our repast finished, we all said grace. Turcomans never by any chance, whether at home or in the desert, neglect this ceremony. Holding our joined hands before us, in the fashion of an open book, we prayed in muttered tones. What the terms of the prayer were, I was never able to catch, but I muttered away as well as the best of them. Then, separating our palms, the elbows resting on the hips, we each exclaimed with unction, and in subdued tones, El hamd Lillah" (Praise be to God). Then we stroked our beards with the right and left hand alternately, and looked cautiously over our shoulders, right and left, lest Shaitan (the devil) might be lurking nigh us. A deep, heavily-drawn sigh, by way of expressing the stomachic oppression which we experienced from the completeness of our meal, and eructations, natural or forced, were polite and indis- pensable recognitions of our host's hospitality. To refuse to cat a considerable quantity of the food set before you would be an unpardonable offence. To do the reverse is to exhibit a good feeling, which raises you in the estimation of your entertainer. I remember that when upon one occasion I had ridden a long distance since the early morning, and was worn with fatigue and hunger, halting with my companions at a village, dishes of newly-made gattuk were laid before us—a preparation which, when fresh, is really delicious. It needed no adventitious politeness to make me devour it, and I emptied my huge dish of coagulated milk in a manner which charmed my host. Another was set before me, which I devoured with equal zest. I had even surpassed my companions in voracity, and from time to time I observed my grey-bearded enter- tainer turn to the assemblage, and, with a look of genuine pleasure lighting his countenance, say, alluding to me, "He is a good man; he is an excellent man." Occa- sionally, a few hours after gorging in this manner, I have been compelled by circumstances to set to again, and, in following the dictates of Central Asian politeness, have rendered myself incapable of mounting my horse for the next tweve hours.—The Jferv Oasis. THE SURRENDER OF LORD CORNWALLIS.— At two o'clock in the afternoon of the 1:1th of October, 1781, the Uritish troops marched out of Yorktown, with drums beating, muskets shouldered, and colours cased, to lay down their arms before the American and French army, drawn up in two lines (the Americans on the right side of the road, the French on the left.), to the extent of more than a mile. Washington, with an honourable feeling of compassion for brave men in mis- fortune, ordered mere spectators to keep aloof from the ceremony (which, however, they do not seem to have done), and suppressed all public signs of exultation. Lord Cornwallis spoke well of both divisions of the army. In a letter to Sir Henry Clinton, he wrote: The treatment in general that we have received from the enemy since our surrender has been perfectly good and proper. But the kindness and attention that has been shown to us by the French officers in particular, their delicate sensibility of our situation, their generous and pressing offer of money, both public and private, to any amount, has really gone beyond what I can possibly describe, and will, I hope, make an impression on the breast of every English officer, whenever the fortune of war should put any of them in our power." When the British troops issued forth they were headed by General O'Hara, riding on horseback, who, taking off his hat to Washington, apologised for the non-appearance of Lord Cornwallis on account of indisposition. In reply, Washington informed him that to General Lincoln had been Assigned the duty of receiving the submission of the garrison. Lincoln was the officer in command at Charleston when it surrendered to Clinton in the pre- ceding year. By him the British troops were now conducted into a field, where they were to ground their arms. Their march has been described by an American on-looker as careless and irregular, and their aspect as sullen. The order to "ground arms "was given by their plato m officers in a tone of great chagrin, and many of the soldiers threw down their muskets with a violence sufficient to break them—an outburst of temper which General Lincoln found it necessary to check. The ceremony being concluded, the men were conducted back to Yorktown, there to remain under guard until removed to their places of destination. What proved to be in truth the climax of the Ilevolutionary War had been ac- complished. The infant Hercules in his cradle, as Franklin afterwards expressed it, had strangled his second serpent—the first being General Burgoyne. Peace was still distant, but to most Americans it seemed secure.- CassclVs History of the United States. THE ANGLO-AUSTRALIAN BREED OF MEN.— The remarkable achievements of the Australian team last season will be memorable in the annals of cricket. We presume that most, if not all, of them are native born, and certainly all have been reared and trained In the colonies. Whatever may be said in cricketing circles about them, or about their successes, this one point is demonstrated-that the vigour of the Anglo- Saxon race has not deteriorated, nay, rather, has im- proved in Australia. As a rule, men born of English or Irish parents in these colonies grow up with more com- pact and sinewy frames, and with less tendency to form superfluous fat and flesh. In the earlier days of New South Wales young men were nicknamed corn stalks from the rapid growth in height, but at the same time they grew up wiry and muscular. This may have been partly due to the active life common in every new colony, but the chief factor in national breed is climate. Warm weather during spring, summer, and autumn, the absence of hard frost or heavy snow in winter, cloudless skies three hundred days in the year, bright sunshine and dry atmosphere-all this tends to attenuate the human frame. The climate also conduces to temperate habits, amounting almost to a natural dis- like for strong liquors. Intemperance prevails far more among the immigrants from the old country than among the native-born colonists. Though less in average weight than Englishmen, the adults attain to a good average height, the rapid growth being chiefly in early life. With regard to the Anglo Australian I women, they arrive earlier at maturity, and begin to decline at an age when English, Scotch or Irish women are at their prime. The beauty and elegance of the 44 currency lasses," as the unmarried girls used to be called, is proverbial. The name was given in times when local notes formed the main currency in trade and commerce, before the gold discoveries. One noteworthy fact is worth mentioning. Parents who had been child- less in the old country often become the joyful heads of families in Australia. This is well-known, and recog- nised in popular sayings. However physiologists may account for it, there is providential fitness in the fact, because children in a young colony are sources of wealth to poor parents, while in overcrowded lands they are cacses of anxiety. The Australian colonies are not old enough to supply sufficient data for comparative tables of longevity, but the returns of the registrars as to health attest the general salubrity of the climate. It is also certain that invalids from the old country often derive great benefit, and persons in the decline of life seem to obtain what is called 44 a new lease of life by emigrating to Australia.—Leisure Hour.
| LADIES' COLUMN.
| LADIES' COLUMN. DRESS AND FASHION. A correspondent of the Qiteen writes: May I suggesfr the Herald of St>rin:j as a pretty and novel fancy dress ? Short full skirts of palest grey tulle, the lower part scattered with swallows, in silk applique, each hold- ing in its beak one or two violets or primroses by the stalks. Round the upper part of the skirt a fully draped scarf of silver gauze, tied in loops and ends behind, and fastened at one side and at the back with branches of pink apple blossom; pointed and laced bodice of pale pink satin or pink and silver brocade, cut low, and draped round the neck with silver gauze, trimmed on one shoulder and across the chest with a cordon of shaded violets, primroses, and a few leaves very short slreves of silver gauze, from which hang three chains of single shaded violets, arranged as festoons; powdered hair; round wreath of apple blossom, on one side of which a stuffed swallow is perched, in its beak a small diamond heart; in the hand a silver wand, surmounted by a poesy of spring flowers, tied with pink ribbon a chain of single shaded violets round the neck; pale pink shoes and hose; a fan of pink mara- bout, with a swallow in the centre. Coming through the Rye may be arranged as follows A short skirt of corn-coloured cashmere or nun's cloth, with an applique border of scarlet poppies and leaves an over-skirt of pale blue nun's cloth, of a somewhat chalky shade, trimmed with two or three rows of narrow black velvet. This must be arranged enpaniers, gathered high on the right side, and fastened with a large bunch of wheat, tied with long loops of poppy colour and pale blne ribbon a close-fitting bodice, of bright chestnut plush, open at the throat, and disclosing a small tichu of very soft folds of muslin short elbow sleeves, also turned up with muslin; a large spray of pale blue cornflowers from the chest to the left shoulder one or two poppies placed lightly in the hair, which must be arranged with studied negligence. Over the left arm is carried a rush basket, in shape something like those used bv carpenters this must be filled with a small sheaf of rye, with poppies, cornflowers, yellow daisies, and leaves placed carelessly across the handles; a wide-brimmed low- crowned '.at, decorated with a single large poppy, and a few wheat ears, with strings of black velvet tied under the chin, may be worn hanging from the shoulders, or a soft handkerchief of bright yellow may be worn over the back of the head and tied under the chin black leather shoes scarlet and black striped or brown hoae black mittens or Sut de gloves no jewellery, and a poppy fan, if any be used. Elaine de Marsy, in the same paper, writes as follows Some beautiful toilettes are now to be seen at Worth's two being destined for the Empress of Kussia. The first -a reception dress—has a skirt bordered with three pink tulle flounces embroidered in gold Vandykes. Above are two thick garlands of red roses in velvet, likewise the leaves; the front is pink ottoman, which looks like terry velvet; the paniers are pink tulle, striped with gold, and draped at the side with pink feathers the immense train of prllk tulle striped with pink crepe, and lined with pink ottoman, is bordered outside and inside with a wide band of pink feathers. The train is sewn to the waistband, but is otherwise detached. The low ottoman bodice has folds of gold-striped pink tulle fastened with feathers. The second is a ball dress for her Imperial Maje-tv. The front is pearl embroidered tulie, trimmed with a ruche, and a profusion of nastur- tiums and white flowers at the back of the skirt there are seven white tulle flounces with Bavad're stripes of orange velvet, and a large pouf of the" same coloured velvet. Low velvet bodice with garlands of ,nasturtiums. I also saw at Worth's a beautiful ball dress for the Countess de Beauharnais. It was cream satin and cream tulle, with garlands of dark pansies mixed with silver lilies of the valley low bodice, sewn to the square train of satin, which was draped with several veils of tulle, one being striped with satin. Another ball dre^s, in which silver is introduced, is white trimmed with white marabouts the skirt is bordered with a thick tulle ru.he, with two rows of silver fringe in the centre. The back is a waterfall of tulle with streaks of silver low white satin bodice trimmed with folds of silver tulle and white marabout; not a llower. A dinner dress for the Countess Grudin had the front in black satin embroidered in jet, and the long square train in velvet of the new light shade of orange, called "namme;" high satin lodice, embroidered like the skirt, and open in front. M. Felix, in the Faubourg St. Honoro,has been making beautiful dresses for the Russian Court. They have short satin skirts (light green and bright pink) covered with a plain tulle sk;rt, embroidered thickly in mother-of-pearl, ^teel, and gold beads, forming large designs, but so closely worked that none of the foundation is visible; low, pointed patin bodice, with ornaments to match; paniers and train of plain ruby, blue, or green velvet. Thctrainisdetachedsothatthe sparkling beads are visible all round the skirt. The effect of this embroidery is very rich, and at a distance it is impossible to ascertain of what it is composed. There has been recently exhibited at the rooms of the National Health Society, 44, Berners-street, Oxford- street, London, a novel dress intended for the protection of sanitary visiters, nurses, and others, who have to enter the rooms of persons suffering from infectious diseases. The garment is of mackintosh, glared inside and out, and made completely to envelope the wearer, and with a hood to cover the head. Thus only the hands and face remain cxposed- a matter considered of comparatively little importance, as these can be easily washed with disinfectants. A not less important object proposed to be effected by the use of this dress is that bv its removal when the wearer leaves the sick-room the clothes which have been protected need not be changed, and the danger of the disease being carried from house to house, or com- municated to susceptible persons in public vehicles, is obviated. A tight case for the fever dress to be inclosed in is part of the invention. At the end of the day, or as often as may be convenient, the dress can be cleansed with disinfectants. Further protection is given by a simple form of respirator. This is made of two folds of thin washing net, between which is placed a layer of medicated cotton-wool, through which the wearer can breathe, though no germs can pass. The respirator ha tape strings which tie round the ears. After use the wool is burnt and the net washed.
USEFUL HINTS.
USEFUL HINTS. To IMPROVE THE FLAVOUR OF ROAST MrAT._When roasting meat, sprinkle a little salt and flour over it; it adds to the flavour of the:meat and helps to brown the gravy, which should be made from the dripping pan, after the dripping is removed.—Girls' Oicn Paper, APRICOT CREAM. Ingredients Half a pint of cream, eight apricots, 8oz. powdered white sugar, loz. isinglass. How to use them: Put the fruit into a stewpan with a gill of water and 4 Oc. of sugar; let them cook; when cooked let get cold. Whisk up half a pint of cream very stiff, add the apricots passed through a metal strainer, and 4oz. powdered white sugar; dissolve loz. isinglass in a little hot water, mix it with the cream, stir well together, and pour in a mould stand it in ice- water to get cold. When required for table turn out as directed in the foregoing recipe. To MAKE TWENTY-FIVE GALLONS OF GINGER WINE. -Take twenty-five gallons of water and add seventy-five pounds lump sugar, the rind of forty-five oranges and twenty-five lemons, and two pounds of ginger well bruised. Boil together for one hour. Skim all scum off as it rises. When cool add a little yeast, put it in a barrel; next day slice the flesh of the oranges and lemons, also fifteen pounds of raisins chopped very fine, and put them into the cask. Stir it two or three times daily so long as it ferments. Add twelve quarts cowslip pips and one quart best trench brandy. I)o not bung the barrel too soon. The wine can be drawn off and bottled in six months.— G. Jtf. S., in Gardening Illustrated. ,TELlS FOR INVALIDS.—Soak an ounce of gelatine in half a pint of cold water for an hour or more. It is an advantage to soak gelatine over-night when convenient, because it is then more easily dissolved. Boil 6oz. of lump sugar in a pint of water, skimming it until clear then throw in the soaked gelatine, let it boil slowly for for five minutes, removing all scum as it rises. Fissolve in a basin 10; of citric acid, in lump, in half a gill of boiling water, pour the jelly on to this, when more scum will rise, which should be carefully taken off. Now add a gill of wine and a little lemon flavouring, and, when nearly cold, put the jelly into a mould. Lemon juice can be used instead of the citric acid, but the jelly will not then be so bright. HEADACHE.—Dr. Haley says {Australian Medical Journal) that, as a rule, a dull, heavy headache, situated over the brows and accompanied by langour, chilliness, and a feeling of general discomfort, with distaste for food, which sometimes approaches to nausea, can be completely removed, in abont ten minutes, by a two- grain dose of iodide of potassium dissolved in half a wineglassful of water, this being sipped so that the whole quantity may be consumed in about ten minutes. To CLEAN OIL PAINTINGS.—Shave a half pound of soap into two quarts of strong lye, and add a half pint of alcohol. Let them simmer on the fire for thirty minutes, then strain through a cloth. Apply to the picture with a brush, wipe off with a sponge, and apply it a second time, which will remove all dirt. Next rub the picture with a little warmed nut oil and let it day. If the canvas is injured by damp or mildew, stretch and line it with new canvas.