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[All Rights Reserved.] THE FLOWER OF THE SUN. BY .I JULIAN ASHTON. AUTHOR OF vThe Temptation of Adrian Norreys," "Love's Reward," "A Spirit's Curse," &c., &c. CHAPTER V. (Continued. Meta was verv pale, but her face wore a resolute, settled expression. Lucy, dear Lucy," she said, bending over the invalid, and affectionately kissing her forehead, "you know how fond I am of you, and that I would do anything in the world for you, anything in my power, that is. Now I want you to do something to please me." You needn't ask me that, Miss Franklin you've been so kind and good to meaU through my illness, that I love you more than I can say. And so do father and mother if you only knew what they say of you." '■ Then listen, Lucy, I want you to try a medicine that I have here. One dose only, just to try if it does you any good. Will you do this ?" Of course I will, Miss, and even if it doesn't do anything for me, I shall know that you meant it kindly, and thank you just the same." Yes but that is not all, Lucy. There is some- thing more I have to ask you; something of the greatest importance." I'll do it, dear Miss Franklin, whatever it is, to please you." It is this," said Meta, taking the girl's hand, and lowering her voice, I want you to promise solemnly, faithfully, that if this medicine does you good in any way, you will never breathe one word about it to any living soul, never to anyone. Not to your father or mother, not to Dr. Ferguson, not a syllable. Do you promise me this ? Will you do it for my sake ?" But why, Miss Franklin ? What for must I never tell anyone ?" That is my secret, Lucy. You need not be afraid to trust me. But you must give me your most solemn promise." Very well; I do, I promise faithfully that I'll never say one word to any living soul, since you wish it. I'd do more than that for you if you Wanted me to." That is enough, I can trust you, dear Lucy. And now I will give you this medicine." With a trembling hand, Meta passed the fluid into a wineglass, and held it to the light for a moment. Clear and transparent, the Elixir of Life; or the harmless, helpless concoction-which was i ?-exposed within its crystal walls. Forcing herself with an effort, conscious that it was too late to draw back now, Meta gave it to Lucy. It smells nice, anyhow, Miss. If it wasn't for that I should think it was only water. Does it taste nice, too ?" "Try it and see, dear Lucy," said Meta, com- pelling herself to smile, "Drink it quickly, don't Bipit." The girl obeveu, and the next instant Meta was just in time to catch the glass as it dropped from the girl's hand, while she fell back on her pillow. A b strong convulsive shuddering seized the in- valid her eyes closed as if in death. The cold perspiration broke out on her brow, and her breath came and went in terribly rapid gasps, the only sign of life she gave. Meta's heart sank. "I have killed her," she -said to herself. Whatever it is, the medicine is some fearfully strong preparation, and in her weak state she cannot bear it. I have killed her," and she afterwards looked back to those few moments of suspense and anguish, and wondered at the despairing calmness with which she recog- nised the dread probability. But in another minute the alarming violence of the effects produced by Yussuf's draught began to subside. The shudderings ceased, the breathing became more regular, and the eyes opened, and fixed themselves on Meta, who felt an inexpressible relief, a joy that was too deep for words. She did not even think whether the Elixir was indeed going to restore Lucy to new life, she had no thought of that just then; all she felt was that Lucy was not dying, and that death would not be laid at Meta's Goor. She held some wine to the girl's lips. Lucy tested H and revived a little more. Oh, I thought I was dying," she said faintly. «I couldn't get my breath. I had to fight for every breath I drew. My heart seemed as it must •top-" Drink a little more of this, dear Lucy. You are better, I can see." "Better, yes, I feel getting better now. Oh, Miss Franklin," she cried, with sudden eagerness, « What is this ? I feel as if I were getting stronger every minute. What have you given me ? Oh, I can't tell you what I'm feeling. Have you put tresh life into me, or what have you done ? I can't understand it. Surely, you can't have cured me; I can't believe that, and yet if it isn't that, what can this mean ?" Her colour, long absent from the pallid cheeks bad returned; her voice was a transformation from languid weakness to clear, resonant strength, her eyes sparkled with eager hope. She sat up in the bed, and gazed in bewiderment at the friend who had done so much by such apparently simple means. It was with difficulty thet Meta Franklin re- strained herself from a passionate outburst of hysterical joy. The tears would come, Nature would not be denied that merciful relief, but for Lucy's sake she controlled the wild excitement which possessed her. For reflection began to re- assert itself, now that the heavy tension of agonis- ing fear was removed, and she perceived the hitherto incredible fact that an Eastern physician, some twelve centuries ago, had discovered the sup- posed impossible thing—that subtle combination of .Nature's forces which could arrest disease and pro- long the waning life. But she banished all thought of that for the present. This was not the time. She must give her whole attention to Lucy Flinton now, and above all she must guard her priceless se- cret. Lie down again, dear, and try to compose your- self. You must not get excited, or you will only do yourself harm. I think you'll find this improve- ment will continue, and I shall come to see you to- morrow. But now, Lucy, remember, you have pledged your word solemnly to me. You dare not Ibreak it. To the doctor, to your father and mother, you must only say you feel a little better; that is quite enough. And don't let them know all at once how much stronger you really feel; break it to them gradually. Good-bye now, and expect me to- morrow afternoon." The girl threw her arms round Meta's neck and irissed her passionately. I'll do anything in the world for you, dear Miss Franklin," she cried; I believe you've saved my life. Though how you managed it, is more than I can tell." CHAPTER VI. I THE SQUIRE'S WOOING. I DR. FERGUSEN sat in his comfortable lounge chair lby the side of a cheerful fire in his consulting room. Time, just on the stroke of mid-night; his com- Sanion, the well-beloved pipe. This was the good octor's favourite time of the day, when his work Was done and he could enjoy a quiet period of well- earned rest before turning in. But if the body was reposid", the mind was active; and the knitted brow showed signs of deep thought. Absolutely inexplicable," he ruminated. I fancied I had seen a few problems of the healing art in the course of a twenty years' busy practice; but this beats all. The girl was dying, the case was hopeless; I'll stake my professional reputation on that fact. I leave her one day after satisfying my- self that nothing more could be done, and at the next visit find her preternaturally stronger and an incredible increase of strength. Of course one lung is gone for ever, and the. upper part of. the other one touched with disease, but she can live with that: seems likely to. And nothing to account for all this. She only says, I She began to feel better.' Has the age of miracles come back ?" He rose to fill his pipe afresh, and then resumed his meditations. And as if that was not food sufficient for wonder. Next comes this talk about the Squire and that pretty girl, Meta Franklin. Who would have believed it! He must be well on for sixty, though he's wanderfully young for his years, the result of the temperate, healthy life he has always led. That always pays, if men would only have the sense to see and act upon it. But everyone thought he was the most confirmed old bachelor for a hundred miles round. Well, she's a pretty girl, and a good one, from all I hear; and that's even better. But of course he's old enough to be her father. What will she be? About twenty- three or twenty-four, I suppose. Well, it's no more my business than other people's and that's just none whatever. Ah, there goes 12 o'clock; time to turn in, and lucky if I'm not rung up for that poor woman in Middle Row before the morn- ing." And with a portentious yawn, the genial physician betook himself to his often disturbed rest. He was right in his last surmise. The gossips of the village were no better and no worse than those of other country places, where life runs on in a rather monotonous groove, and where a new sensation stimulates the curiosity. And in this instance they certainly had some grounds for 'eager cariosity. The squire had passed a quiet, uneventful life up to the present time. The affairs of his estate, politics, and, for an absorbing hobby, his rare flowers, had apparently more than satis- fied him. Not only had he never married, but so far as anyone knew he had never loved. And now at the mature age of fifty-five Gordon Tranby, local magnate, justice of the peace, chairman of the quarter sessions, president of the agricultural and horticultural societies of the district the last man in the county who one would have credited with such infatuation, was openly and unmis- takably a victim to the nameless charm of Meta Franklin, "Nameless" charm, because so hard to define in what lay her wonderful power of attraction. She was very sweet to look at, rich dark eyes and hair, classically cut features, a rather tall and ex- quisitely moulded. figure: all these she had, but yet you would have hesitated to call her a very beautiful girl. Others whom the Squire had met were indisputably more striking in mere appear- ance, some of them had tried to secure him as a prize well worth gaining in the matrimonial race. But he had come unscathed through the network of their wiles, and smiled secretly to think how little he was affected by their efforts to ensnare him. The secret of Meta's unconscious power over the Squire was perhaps in the double fact that she was very attractive in herself, and also that she pos- sessed a wonderful gift of sympathy. By sym- pathy must be understood the power of seeming really interested in each person she came into con- tact with of sharing their joys and sorrows; of listening with a bright smile to the prosaic tale of their every day life and work. The village school- mistress, the old parish church clerk, the cottage children, all loved her as a real kind lady," and the solitary village constable always gave her the salute in passing as deferentially as he did to the Squire or to his district superintendent. And this sympathy was not assumed, was in no way artificial. She had that rare natural instinct which, half unconsciously to itself, desires the hap- piness of those arouad it; and, short of sacrificing truth or principle, will do all it can to promote that happiness. Such characters never fail to make themselves loved. Mrs. Elliott and Meta were in the pretty drawing- room at Brookfield. It was about nine o'clock in the evening, and the neat little maidservant had just brolighten coffee. Meta, in a deep, luxuiorusly cosy arm chair, was engaged on some piece of fancy work, while Mrs. Elliott lay on the sofa, keenly watching her. For the subject of their conversation was of ab- sorbing interest; the recent and strongly marked attentions of the Squire to Meta. "It would be sheer affectation to pretend to ignore Mr. Tranby's conduct lately, my dear. People are talking about it everywhere, I assure you, and it is time that we considered what to do about it." Meta's colour rose a little, as she bent over her work, but she did not reply. Beyond the most ordinary civility, on the few occasions when we chanced to meet, he has never shown me the least attention. Don't mistake me, I never looked for or expected any- thing of the kind, so I am not speaking as if I felt injured or slighted. But gradually, within the last two months, everything has changed. Mr. Tranby who was seldom seen in the village, except when driving through it, now frequently meets you and me, somehow, and always stops to converse. Then, he has given us the entry to his beautiful gardens every day and any day, instead of the one half-day he permits the public view. Presents of game and hothouse grapes for me; and simply magni- ficent fiowers for you-his gardeners must he se- cretly wild with him, I fancy-as if all this were not enough, comes this invitation to a quiet dinner at the Hall for Tuesday next." What does he say in the note, Auntie ?" Mrs. Elliott placed her eyeglasses in position and read: Dear Mrs. Elliott,-It will give me much pleasure if you and your niece will dine here on Tuesday next, at a quarter to eight. I hope your engagements will permit of your coming, especially as I have some new purchases in china I should like to show to both of you, Majolica and Sevres. With kindest regards to Miss Franklin, I am, most sincerely yours, M, "GORDON TRANBY. The Hall, Friday ^evening." I suppose we had better accept, Meta ?" said her aunt, questioningly. I see no reason why we should not, auntie. The Squire is certainly very kind and attentive, and perhaps," she added archly, he might be dis- appointed if we did not go." Meta, tell me at once," said Mrs. Elliott, sitting up and looking at the girl, "if the Squire proposed to you what should you say in answer ?" Meta laughed gently as she laid down her work, and raised her mirthful eyes in reply. "I think that what I said just now applies equally to the case you have supposed. I see no reason why I should not accept Mr. Tranby, if he asked me to marry him. And perhaps he might be disappointed if I said no." Mrs. Elliott lay back again on her cushions with a sigh of relief. She had been secretly afraid that her niece might have what she termed nonsensical notions," and so refuse a wonderfully good offer. "Of course I am not in love with him," Meta, went on, after a moment's silence. "I suppose strictly speaking, that no marriage ought to be entered upon without a strong and mutual affec- tion on both sides. But many love marriages have turned out unhappy afterwards, and many a marriage which has been contracted from motives not quite so idealistic have resulted in a very fair share of the quiet happiness, so to speak, I'm not in love with anybody now. I can honestly say that; and I'm quite ready to make a good wife to Mr. Tranby to the uttermost of my jrower, if he asks me. If he thinks marrying me will bring him happiness, and if I promise to become his wife I am bound to do all I can not to let him ever feel he has made a mistake. That I am sure of, my dear, and I also believe you will both be happy enough. For I am certain the Squire means to ask you. But, Meta, you said a minute ago that you were not in love now.' For- give my asking you the question, dear; but have you ever been in love with anyone?" The^ girl's cheek paled slightly but she answered, Yes. "I see you would like to hear all about it, auntie. It is a very short story. Three years ago, when I was the English Governess in a German family at Wiesbaden, I became acquainted with a young gentleman who was staying there for a few I weeks. His name was Cecil Arehdall. The acquaintance grew into a close friendship, and we saw a great deal of each other. I soon found I loved him, and I am certain he also cared very much for me. But he let me know that he was very poor, and with no od prospects; he told me a good deal about himself, and so, because he saw no hope of marrying me, he never spoke openly of love. And at last he had to leave Wiesbaden on some business affairs, and went out to China. I never heard of him again, and I don't even know whether he is alive. So I have closed that little chapter of romance for ever, and put it away." Mrs. Elliot looked at her wistfully. I hope it is put away for ever, my dear; and that the un- known future may never bring it out again. It isn't easy to bury one's first real love—I don't mean a boy and a girl affection—but the first real, deep affection in our life. We may think we have put it underground and stamped down the earth upon it, but it has a wonderful vitality^and an unpleasant power of throwing the earth aside and confronting us in all its old strength. But now that we have decided to go, let us change the subject and settle that dreadfully important question, what to wear." The result of the animated conversation which followed was apparently satisfactory. At least, so thought the Squire, when on the Tuesday night, he contemplated with silent admirations Meta's costume of amber silk, draped with black net, the low-cut corsage, with puffings of amber chiffon and silk, showing her beautiful figure to much advan- tage. A single Marechal Niel rose in her dark hair completed the effect of a singularly appropriate and effective dress. She wore no jewellery of any kind, even the fan was very simple, though a dainty little work of art. Mrs. Eliott's robe of heavy black silk, with silver passementerie, in excellent taste with her age and position as a widow. The only other guest was Professor Koelle, who advanced towards Meta with a pleasant smile. You did not expect to see me, Miss Frank- lin ?" "No, indeed, Professor; I did not know you were in England now." I arrived only yesterday, and came straight from London to my dear friend here." An unexpected, but always welcome guest," said the Squire. Koelle, will you give your arm to Miss Franklin," and himself leading Mrs. Elliott, the four adjourned to the great dining-room with its huge marble fireplace and panalled oak ceil- ing. The Squire had evidently exerted himself to do honour to his guests, and the luxury of the menu secretly astonished both Mrs. Elliott and Meta. Ortolans from Italy, black game from Russia, were novelties to them. nor had they ever tasted the costly Imperial Tokay which the two liveried foot- men presented with the entrements. The conversation went briskly on, but, while the Squire was engaged in an animated discussion with Mrs. Elliott on the beauties of a rare Java orchid which he had lately introduced into his orchid house, Professor Koelle found the opportunity he wanted, for an aside with Meta. What of your wonderful discovery, Miss Franklin ? Are you still confident that you, of all living persons, have discovered the true Elixir Vitae ?" You will keep my secret ?" said Meta, in a low voice. "Faithfully; because I hope such knowledge is not for us poor, weak mortals." Then I have proved it, tested it's worth, and it has brought back one from the edge of the grave, who was rapidly dying. I was terrified at myrown success." You ought to be, in truth." he said very gravely. I am grieved to hear this. Man has no right to have such power. Let me implore you to destroy your secret before it is too late." No, I cannot do that. Of course, I shall not use it indiscriminately, that would be madness but is it not a glorious thing to feel that you alone, of all the millions of people on this earth, have the power to call back the departing soul, and save life where the wisest and most skilful of physicians stand hopelessly by ?" No. I repeat that if you have this power, and I must believe your word, "that the responsi- bility is too great for anyoneto assume. Mark me, Miss Franklin, one day you will find yourself in a fearful position, you will not know whether you ought to prolong some one particular life or to let the ordinary laws of nature tnke their usual way; whether it is best to exercise this weird power that you have so strangely stumbled upon, or to hold your hand. I am much older than you, I may say, perhaps, that a life of deep study—both of books and mankind-has brought no more wis- dom than you have. But I would not take such responsibility as you are cheerfully accepting for all the riches in the world." Meta looked troubled, but there was a firm set of her rich full lips that indicated a resolution to retain both her secret and the responsibility. But at this moment her aunt rose, and they adjourned to the drawing-room. Nothing further of any special note occurred during the evening, except that while Professor Koelle and Mrs. Elliott were deeply engrossed in a game of picquet, the Squire carried Meta off to the library to show her his latest acquisition in porcelain." When the two ladies took their leave, he accom- panied them down the broad flight of stairs and through the splendid hall to the door. There he put them into the carriage himself, somewhat to the surprise of the footman standing by, and who naturally expected that duty would have fallen to his lot. A close observer might have noticed that Mr. Tranby held Meta's hand in his own for a second or two longer than seemed imperatively necessary, and that Miss Franklin's fair face was slightly flushed as she smiled a "good-night" to him. Then the modest little brougham rolled away, and was lost in the darkness of the village road. "Meta dear?" said Mrs. Elliott, after some minutes silence. There was a world of meanirgin her questioning tone. "Yes, auntie; you-were quite right. Mr. Tranby, in the library this evening, asked me to be his wife. And I accepted him." (To be continued.)
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APROPOS of American thieves, burglar-alarms have now been affixed to all the famous paintings in the New York Central Park Picture Gallery. These are connected with the Park police-station, and when a little bell tinkles there a policeman approaches the inspector with the remark," Please, sir, there's someone after the Rembrandt," or A man's a-trying to collar the Van Dyck," and the thief is caught. A VEGETABLE curiosity exists at Acmé, in the north-west of Washington State, in a forest of hemlocks and Canadian black firs. The forest grows on the site of an old cedar forest, and, strange to say, some of the hemlocks are rooted on the backs of cedar trunks which must have lain under them for 150 years. The roots of the hem- locks ramify all over the cedar trunks to get to the ground. THE population of St. Petersburg at the census taken last December was 1,439,194, an increase of more than half a million on the 1881 census. The population was 1,036,324 in December, 1890, and 918,01.6 in 1881. There is a difference of nearly 100,000 between the summer and winter popula- tions in favour of the latter. THE new harbour of Craigenroan will consist of a large breakwater, beginning at the east end of Craigenroan rock, and stretching across the rock in a westerly direction, until about halfway along the rock, where it will turn to the south. There will be two entrances, the east one having 10ft. of water at low water or spring tides, and the west entrance 6ft. deep. The estimated cost of the har- bour construction is E38,000. THE widening of London Bridge about to be begun will take three years, and will cost £ 100,000; granite cantilevers are to jut out from the existing bridge, and there will be an open granite balus- trade, the gain in width being 12ft., of which 9ft. will go to the footpaths. The bridge rests on the wooden piles of an older bridge, and soon after it was erected, in the thirties of last century, the foundations made an unequal settlement. This afterwards was put right, and the present archi- tects are confident that the new burden can be sustained. The improvement is needed badly, as i not less than 100,000 persons and 22,000 vehicies cross the bridge every 24 hours. THE growth of Japan's merchant navy can be judged from a note in the Engineer, which says that in 1872 Japan had 96 merchant steamers of i 23,364 tons aggregate tonnage, and these were all, I without exception, vessel's condemned by the former owners as unfit for further profitable ser- vice, and being both ill-found and ill-managed, they never ventured beyond the coasts of Japan. In 1900, her fleet included 846 steamers of 528,321 tons, most of them vessels of the highest types of modern construction, thoroughly equipped in every respect, well-managed, and successfully competing, to all parts of the world with the best shipping lines.
OUR SHORT STOR"^ I
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OUR SHORT STOR"^ I ONE TRUE WOMAN. I I am sick and tired of this life! I would rather die now than endure it year after year, without a hope of release Stella Monito threw her crochet- work to the other side of the small room. If I could go to the seaside like other girls, I might make a suitable match—one that would save me t' 11, from the bondage of poverty!" Netta sadly looked up from her lounge. "You have much to be thankful for, dear Stella," she said softly. Your health-a beautiful face » What is the good of my beauty ? Whom do I see now in this dead and alive little country place ? No one but Doctor James, and he is old and stout, and knows our poverty too well to think of me." At this juncture, Mrs. Monito, a quiet, ladylike woman, entered the room, and looked from one to the other of her daughters. What is the trouble ?" she asked. "Mamma, Stella is tired, and wants to go to the seaside," Netta said softly. Poor Stella is weary of this life, and I think I had better give her Uncle Locrime's gift, and then she can have her way." "Netta!" exclaimed the astonished mother. Yes; my money increases very slowly, and per- haps, after all, I may not get better." At the girls' last birthdays, their mother's brother had given each twenty-five pounds. Stella had bought some handsome finery with her money, but Netta, who had been for years crippled by a fall, laid hers aside, hoping to save enough to take her to a celebrated surgeon in Paris, who had made wonderful cures of cases like hers. Buoyed up with that hope, she had painted little pictures for the dealers, and saved each shilling carefully but r Stella's constant repining was wearing, and she de- termined to give up her hope and let her have her long looked for trip. Do you really mean it ? Netta ?" Stella ques- tioned eagerly. Yes." Then, I will tell you what I'll do, you dearest of sisters! I shall be sure to make a conquest, and when I am married. I will take you to Paris, to the physician you wish to see." At that moment some one tapped at the door, and a moment later, Doctor James, a tall, rather stout man of about forty-five years of age, with a grave kind face, entered. Two weeks later Stella Monito was staying ^t a fashionable seaside place. Time went by, and her letters home were not very frequent. Finally one morning the postman brought one that ran thus, I- My DEAR MOTHER AND SISTER.—I am about to be married, and bid adieu to a life of poverty forever. Mr. Leland, my future husband, is very rich. He has a fine house in London, and a place in Scotland, and nothing to do but enjoy himself. But there is one thing which I am sorry to men- tion-he does not wish me to acknowledge my relatives after marriage. Of course, I shall not forget you, mother and Netta, and shall return the money which brought me here at the earliest opportunity. My face has been my fortune. STELLA." Mrs. Monito covered her face with her hands. My child has forsaken me!" she cried. Netta could hardly utter a word of consolation. What was there to say? She knew her sister worshipped at the shrine of wealth, and cared not how many hearts she broke if she only reached her longed-for goal. A few weeks later, Doctor James made them a visit which was not strictly professional. Netta," he said, sitting down beside her, your sister's seaside trip has won her a husband. Now I have a favour to ask of you. I am tired of being alone in the world; I want a wife to take care of, and there is no one else who would please me but you. I have loved you ever since you were that high "with a motion of his hand-" and if you will have me, I will take you to France to the surgeon you have set your heart on seeing. If lie can cure you I shall rejoice; if he does not, I shall love you all the more." Netta looked up in his kind eyes in surprise—his words were so unexpected. No, no I" she cried. I will not take advan- tage of your generous offer. I will never be a burden to any man And all the arguments he could use would not induce her to change her mind. The days;, wore slowly on. A latter came from Stella: MY DEAR SISTER,—I am ashamed that I have not been able to return your money; but the truth is, though my husband is wealthy, and I am dressed in the finest of clothes, and waited upon like a queen, I have scarcely a shilling under my own control. Everything I have is ordered and paid for by my husband later; but by-and-by I shall contrive a way to get it for you." Poor Stella!" the mother sighed. I am afraid that in the end she will think her seaside adventure a failure." And her marriage, too," rejoined Netta, as all marriages not based on true love prove." 11 1 have some good news for you Doctor James cried, as he entered the room followed by a strange gentleman. Put away your letter, Netta, ') and listen." Netta did his bidding, and the stranger intro- duced himself as a lawyer. He informed them that an uncle of Mrs. Monito's had died, and left her heiress to his wealth-a goodly sum. Several weeks later found Mrs. Monito and Netta on the way to Paris. Doctor James' nephew was going on to the Continent at the same time, and the doctor had intrusted them to his care. God grant your dearest wish may be granted, Netta!" he said to her when parting. Months went by, and Netta was still in Paris, and on the road to recovery. By degrees she found her old strength returning, and at the end of a year was able to walk about without assist- ance. She was very happy, and to crown all, her sister Stella and her husband visited them. They were making a tour, and as her relatives were wealthy now, Mr. Leland had no objection to his wife's associating with them. They insisted that Mrs. Monito and Netta should be of their party. For Stella's sake," Mrs. Monito said, 11 Netts, I will consent. She is unhappy enough. She sold herself for gold, and only too late realises what that bargain means." Another six months passed away. Netta had a number of suitors, but to none did she give en- couragement, and Theodore Duncombe, the doctor's nephew, interpreted that sign favourable to himself. He wrote to his uncle that Netta's health was t perfect, and her life was now a happy one; then ho hinted that, in time, he dreamed of winning her. Theodore is a good boy," the doctor whispered, when he read the letter. They will make a suit- able pair, and I must forget my wild dream." He went to meet them when they returned, and congratulated Netta on the fulfilment of her dearest wish. After that he called but seldom, and was grave and restrained when they met by chance. Duncombe's wooing did not prosper, and at last he begged his uncle to use his influence for him. She thinks so much of your opinion that she will heed you," he pleaded, and the doctor at last consented. He went to see Netta, and made his errand known. She looked at him with a flushed face. I cannot accept your nephew," she said de- cidedly. "I do not care for him as a woman should for the man she marries." "But in time you might." Never I shall never love but one man, and he has had my heart since childhood." "Netta. I never dreamed of this r he said. Who is he ? Tell me!" Need I ?" she asked softly. "Who cared for me when I was poor and afflicted, and would have j burdened himself with me then ? If he has changed, I——" Netta!" He opened his arms to fold her in his embrace. "I never dared hope for this moment!" Theodore Duncombe did not stay to his uncle's wedding, but Stella and her husband went to wit- ness it. May God bless you, myunselftsh sister!" Stella whispered to the bride. And to all appearances, her prayer is answered. j
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EMB-LOYER What do you do with your Satur- day half-holiday ?" Clerk: Oh, I have a good time thinking where I would go and what fun I could have if it were a whole holidav."
I HOME HIlfTS.
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I HOME HIlfTS. THE lustre of leather may be restored by rub- bing over with the white of an egg. A WEAK solution of tobacco will kill insects on plants and not injure their growth. A SALT HERRING eaten before you go on board prevents sea sickness. THE really best method of cleaning mirrors and y Z, windows is to rub them with a paste of whiting z, and water. When this dries, polish with dry chamois and remove the powder. IF the scrubbing-brush be hung up and allowed to drain after use, instead of allowing the water to ,soak into it, it will last as long again, and the bristles will remain firm and hard to the end. SHORT pieces of lamp-wick may be used up by cutting a piece of flannel or cloth the width of the wick and sewing it on to the latter. It will con- duct oil to the burner as well as if it were a long piece of wick. To clean brass trays, sprinkle with silver-sand, squeeze the juice of a lemon all over, rub with the pulp until all stains are removed. Wash off sand without touching tray with cold water, then stand in the sun to dry. To clean a carpet and make it look almost equal to new, take up the carpet and well beat it to free it from dust, and then clean with soft-soap dis- solved in hot water, using a clean cloth, and dry in the air. It will also brighten the colours. WHEN you are stitching on a machine any material which contains stiffening, rub a piece of candle on the material where the needle has to run. This will keep the thread from snarling or knotting, and make the material far easier to sew. WHEN knives are put away for any length of time they are apt to become rusty and spoil. Rubbing the blades with vaseline keeps them in excellent order for months, when they may be easily cleaned by first rubbing off the vaseline with a soft cloth, and then polishing in the ordinary manner. GILT frames may be cleaned as follows: Mix with a pint of water enough Sowers of sulphur to give it a golden tinge; add this to four bruised onions, and boil for an hour and a half. Pour off the liquid, strain it, and let it stand till quite cold. Apply with a soft brush to the dull frame, and it will be much improved.—Janet, in the Evening News. DERWENTWATER CAKES.—Rub half a pound of fresh butter into one pound of flour, put in half a pound of currants and half a pound of sifted sugar beat the yolks of four eggs and whisk the whites to a froth. Mix them with the flour to make a stiff paste: roll to a quarter of an inch thick, cut in small rounds, and bake on a greased baking-sheet in a slow oven for 20 minutes. CHEAP WHITE SOUP. Cut one pound of potatoes in thin slices, one onion, and fry in one ounce of fat, which must be quite boiling in a saucepan. Cover the potatoes with cold water, add salt and pepper to teste, and simmer until potatoes are tender rub all through a sieve; then return to the saucepan, add a teaspoonful of sago, and lastly half a pint of milk. Serve very hot. SUBSTITUTE FOR SOAP. Cucumber peelings boiled in hard water soften it so much that it is almost like rain-water. Many people use a slice of cucumber instead of soap when washing the face in the morning, with excellent results. Soap should be used for the face only at nights, and then with hot water, and the skin afterwards well rinsed in clean lukewarm water. If soap is left in the pores, blackheads are likely to result, and possibly pimples. HASTY BREAD.—It you are short of bread at any time try these rolls, which will take very little time to make. Add two teaspoonfjils of baking-powder and a pinch of salt to one pound of flour. Mix to a fairly stiff dough with milk or milk and water, shape into rolls, lay on a buttered tin, bake about 20 minutes. The oven should be really hot before these are put in, and they must be baked directly after mixing. Some people like them slightly sweetened for cutting bread-and-butter for after- noon tea. — To REMOVE STAINS FROM HANDS.—Wash your hands in soap and water in which some pearlash has been dissolved. If you wish to remove the stains of dye, take a very small quantity of oil of vitriol, and pour it into some cold water in a basin, and wash your hands in it without soap. The dye will then come off. You may afterwards cleanse them completely in hot soap and water, taking care that the acid is washed away before the soap is applied. If the vitriol water is not made very strong it will not injure the most delicate hands, nor leave any red or coarse appearance. <» ,} To MAKE BREAD.—Three pounds of Bout, three teaspoonfuls of salt, one ounce of German yeast, about one pint of warm water. Mix the flour and salt together in a pan, and make a well in the centre. Mix the yeast into the water, and pour into the well. Stir with a wooden spoon until all the flour falls in from the sides. Knead until the dough leaves the sides of the basin clean. Put a clean cloth over the basin, and stand in a warm place near the fire for at least one hour to rise. Turn out on a well-floured board and knead lightly. Have two tins ready greased and floured and warm put the dough into them, and bake in a quick oven for one hour.-Spare Moments. WHEN BAKING CAKES.—Sometimes the paper with which the tin is lined sticks to the cake while baking, and is very difficult to get off. Turn the cake on its side when cold, brush the paper with war water till it is thoroughly damped, when it will peel off quite easily. STAINS.—Chloroform will remove paint or oil from a carpet when everything else fails. When the colour of a fabric has been damaged by acid, and when ammonia has been used to neutralise the acid, the subsequent application of chloroform restores the colour. Great care must always be taken in using chloroform. APPLE CHEESE.—Two pounds of apples, one pound of loaf sugar, the rind and juice of one lemon. Peel and core the apples, grate the rind of lemon, and squeeze the juice. Cut up the apples in pieces, and cook them gently with the sugar and lemon until they are quite soft. Then beat them well till they are thick and smooth. Dip a mould in cold water, and pour in the apple. When quite cold turn out, and serve with erearu or custard.-Evening News. BLACKBERRY JELLY.—Extract the juice from ripe blackberries by placing them in a jar and standing the jar in a pan of fast-boiling water. Drain off the juice as it flows, until the black- berries are quite dry. Measure the juice, and put it into a preserving pan with .2Ib. of preserving sugar to every pint of fruit juice. Bring it to the boil, and let it continue to boil until it jellies readily when a little is poured an to a cold plate which will be in about three-quarters of an hour Pour into dry jars, cover closely, and store. BAKED BLACKBERRY PUDDING.—Remove the stalks from a pound of ripe blackberries, wash them, then put them in an enamel saucepan, sprinkle them well with castor sugar, and let them cook over gentle heat until tender. Line a piedish with thin puff paste, put in the blackberries, and then cover them with a pint of thick boiled cus- tard. Bake in a hot oven until the pastry is cooked. Serve hot or cold with whipped cream. ICED BLACKBERRY TART.—Line a deep plate with a good short paste, fill it with blackberries, stewed as in the previous recipe, cover with paste and bake in a hot oven. When done set the tart aside to cool. Sift Jib. of fine icing sugar into a basin, add a teaspoonful of lemon juice and suffi- cient beaten white of egg to form a very stiff paste. Spread it on the tart with a hot knife and set it in a warm place to harden, but not in the oven, or it will melt. Decorate with crystallised violets and strips of angelica. Serve cold.
I I FREE FIGHT AT A CIRCUS.
Newyddion
Dyfynnu
Rhannu
FREE FIGHT AT A CIRCUS. There was a free fight the other day, near Liège, in Belgium, where the Barnum and Bailey circus was performing. A quarrel broke out between some ticket-sellers and the circus staff. Several persons were injured and others were arrested. As the public were leaving the circus many stones were thrown at the carriages. A judicial inquiry into the affair has been opened.
-I THE WOMAN'S WORLD.!
Newyddion
Dyfynnu
Rhannu
THE WOMAN'S WORLD. DURING the last year or two (says the Morning Leader) the custom of wearing gloves has gradually become less and less a matter of necessity. Only a few years ago, it would have been considered almost improper for a lady to be seen in London without them, but this year it has been more or less a matter of choice, and, conse- quently, gloveless hands have been seen in plenty at theatres and garden parties. The luxury of gloves is far from being a modern invention, for, 400 years B.C., Xenophon tells us that the ancient Persians used gloves, and he cites this as a proof of their effeminacy. Homer describes Laertes, the father of Ulysses, as work- ing in the garden with gloves on his hands to pro- tect them from the thorns and Varro, who lived in the time of Cicero, says that olives gathered with the naked hand are preferable to those gathered with gloves. An extraordinary use for gloves is told by Athenseus about a celebrated glutton, who, he says, always sat down to the table with gloves on, so that he might be able to handle and eat the meat while hot, and devour more than the rest of the company. Up to this point gloves were not considered so much as a covering for the hands, but rather as having specific uses. It is curious to find that Musonius, a philosopher who lived at the close of the first century of Christianity, among other invectives against the corruption of the age, says: It is shameful that persons in perfect health should clothe their hands and feet with soft and hairy coverings." At the beginning of the ninth century after Christ the Church began to lay down regulations for this part of dress, and at the Council of Aix it was ordained that the monks should wear gloves made of sheep-skin. There is a legend about St. Gudula, the patroness of Brussels, that, as she was praying in a church without her shoes, the priest compas- sionately put his gloves under her feet; but she threw them away, and they miraculously hung in the air for the space of an hour; but whether this was meant as a compliment to the saint or the priest is not known. As part of the female dress gloves were not in use till after the Reformation. In the time of Queen Anne they were richly worked and em- broidered, and some of the French gloves for the coming season are, it is said, also to be embroidered and jewelled. To most women the art of cleaning and brighten- ing furs is a profound mystery, but a cheerful little housekeeper whose husband is a furrier divulges the secrets of the trade for the benefit of women who desire to be economical, and are willing to take some trouble to be so, says the People's Friend. She says that all dark furs, such as seal, mink, and otter, are best renovated with mahogany or fine cedar sawdust, which is kept in stock by all furriers, and of which enough to clean a dozen garments can be purchased for a small sum. Lay the garment flat on a bare table, fur side up, take a handful of sawdust, and rub it thoroughly into the hairs. Spare neither sawdust nor strength, for the appearance of the fur afterwards will warrant the lavish use of both. When the garment has been treated, take it up and shake it lightly over the table, -where, of course, a great deal of the sawdust will fall out. It should be gathered up and carefully saved. Now lay upon the table two pillows in their slips, and over them spread the garment, fur down this time, and beat it thoroughly with a light rattan or smooth switch. Move the pillows along as they are needed, so as to always have a soft support for the garment. Take it up, shake lightly, brush the sawdust off pillows and table, and continue beating until the fur is free from sawdust, when it will be as bright as a new fur. White furs must be cleaned with plain white cornmeal, but in the same manner. Small white furs that are not much soiled may be freshened by the use of cube magnesia, which must be thoroughly dusted out. Fur cloaks, light or dark, often become disfigured with carriage grease, but it will yield readily to gasoline applied with a piece of cotton batting. Gentle rubbing and a renewal of cotton frequently are necessary to secure success. Pitch, paint, resinl tar, and oil stains can all be treated in this way, and if they do not readily disappear, oil of turpentine, benzine, or spirits of either can be used. FOR paring the nails (advises the Sun) a sharp knife should always be used. Scissors, by pressing together the edges of the nails, injure their vitality. Weak, brittle nails are frequently caused by some disordered conditions of the system. Rinsing them in weak alum-water or rubbing them with lemon- juice will strengthen them. AN eminent surgeon once said: "Encouragc your child to be merry and to laugh aloud; a good hearty laugh expands the chest and makes the blood bound merrily along. Commend me to a good laugh—not to a little sniggering laugh, but to one that will sound right through the house; it will not only do your child good, but will be a benefit to all who hear, and be an important means of driving the blues away from the dwelling. Mer- riment is very catching, and spreads in a remark- able manner, few being able to resist the contagion. A hearty laugh is delightful harmony; indeed, it is the best of all music." To clean window blinds spread on a table, and rub all over with bread-crumbs. If the blind be only generally grimy, and not really very badly soiled or stained, this treatment will make it look quite clean and fresh again, and it will not be pulled out of shape as blinds often are in the pro- cess of washing and ironing. DON'T have an overmantel of looking-glass with little wooden brackets and pillars at the sides in your dining-room. It has a fidgetty appearance, and mirrors appear to be somewhat out of keeping in a dining-room. DON'T have a medley of colours in a dining- room, and let those which you decide upon be deep and rich in tone. The reds, blues, and greens of the old-fashioned Turkey carpets give the three best shades to work with, taking one, or at most two, for a room. IF your gums seem inclined to go back from the teeth, and the teeth feel as though they are getting loose, try painting the gums with sal- volatile with a tiny camel's-hair brush several nights in succession. Be careful that the sal- volatile does not touch your lips, or it will burn them. IF you have been indulging in the truly feminine relief of a good cry over some trouble which at the moment seems overwhelming, and are desirous of hurriedly and effectually removing all traces of the storm, don't bathe your face in ordi- nary water, as it only increases the redness. Instead, bathe for a few minutes in rose or elder- flower water, then saturate a soft rag in it, lie down, and place the rag over your eyes. Keep it there for 10 minutes, then dry your face, powder j with fine oatmeal, rub with a chamois leather, and you will find yourself quite fit to face the world j again. A NEW collar has appeared, with a buttonhole at each end large enough to admit the tie, so that the latter does not encircle the neck. ATTRACTIVE knit slippers are made with the wool tufted on the inside and with a little turn- over flap at the top. A pretty feature of a number of pretty bedroom slippers made in this way is that they all have black velv«t bows. There is an ad- vantage in this aside from the effect, for a delicate ribbon soils quickly on slippers which are used daily. WHITE straw Gainsborough and Devonshire hats laden with snowy plumes are the very latest expression,of Parisian style and elegance; choux and draperies of the richest lace are added, but flowers of any description are avoided. LONG silk mitts in black or white are worn by very many fashionable women this season (who have elected elbow sleeves for promenade, church and visiting costumes), in preference to suede or glace kid gloves of any description. The new style of French-made silk mitt is very shapely and trim, fitting the arm as perfectly as a fine silk glove;