CHAPTKK XV.
Their honeymoon commences to wane as
peacefully as it began, though a most
unexpected piece of nrws reaches Susie
bfor- it is over. Mr. Gresharn and Mr.
Jarrmi have settled to pass the remainder
of their live together.
It is early in December when they turn
their step boineward. Their first wttled
residence ia in Ird Luton" house in
Cavendish square, which Susie find in
perfect working order, handsomely fur
nished, and with a fall complement of ser
vant. Her curiosity to learn something
aiore of the lady who ha preceded her
in the affection of ber husband grows
upon Susie, and she searches the bouse
eagerly for a portrait of her. There are
family miniature in the drawing-room,
and among them Suaie finds that of a
dark-haired girl, which be imagine to be
m representation of Lord Luton' first
wife. A few days after ber arriTal in
Cavendish square, as ie finishes consult
ing Miss tiennett, th1 housekeeper, on the
Important subject of u.;..;er. she remrrks.
in a manner which she imagines to he per
fectly indifferent:
"That it a portrait of Lady Luton, is
K not?" waving her band toward the min
iature is she speaks.
That: my lady I" replies the house
keeper. "Ob. no, my lady. That is a
portrait of his lordship's aunt by th.;
Mother's side, takeo wben young. You
won't find a picture of the first Lady
Lot. in. my lady; not here nor at Luton
towe. for his lordship did away with
them all directly be lost ber. You see,
they was too sad a memory for his lord
ship, my lady, for n nearly went mad
heo he lout ber. I used to bear bim
B'alk.ug up and down his room of a night,
and raving about ber, my lady. And he
sent everything as could remind him of
fcer away. It was natural, too. wasn't
it. my lndy? For his lordship have one
f the most filling hearts I ever heard of,
and he just worshiped the very ground
ber ladyHhip walked on."
She think!' she can understand now
the reason of those dark silent hours in
which her husband still indulges, and
faring which she has already learned not
b disturb him. That be shonld regret bis
iead wife, and feel melancholy at the re
membrance, is only natural. Bnt if be
"worshiped" her, why has he married
again? Susie can plainly see that her
h'lsiiaiul does not worship her. He loves
Her. she believe, and is always affection
ste and kind in his manner toward her.
hot she misses the ardor with which she
imagines he remarried bis first wife. Yet
she put the envious thought away from
her bravely. .She must tie patient and
loving, ami her reward will come. And
before she has been settled a week in her
new home she has many diversions for her
somewhat sad thoughts. Mrs. George
- i-
Iamocri cans upon ur. auu ionics m o-i
train several of the balf-aristncratic. Imlf-
Roheminn clas. with which Lord Luton
has mixed of late years.
"Fancy this dear child never having
been to I-otidon before I'hiK" sl.e ex
'aiais. after having questioned Susie as
'to her knowledge of town. "We must
isisitivefy take her about and show her
everything."
"Lady Luton at present cares to go
verywbere that her lord and master
oes." nays Philip, holding hia wife's
sand. "But you needn't be afraid of her
t any time. She's a thorough little Bo
hemian, and has never been anything else.
I wouldn't have married her unless it had
been so."
j "Ah! they're the best sort after all,
Phil." cries Mrs Lambert, as she takes
er leave.
Musi cannot help observing certain
small liberties which Mrs. George per
Mta herself to sssume with Lord Lvjton
I especially that one of calling him by his
Christian name), and she becomes nnbsp
17 la oon sequence. She love her husband
vary dearly, and she cannot bear to think
Mast another woman shonld be more inti
arate with him than herself. She has
aver presumed to address him a "Phil,"
Sal each time that Mrs. Lambert pro
aoonesa the syllable it Jars upon her ear.
Tkaa they seem to have bees to so many
liars together and to have known so
ur people, that she baa never even
tmrt of; and they both speak French
HeotTy. and sometimes converse in that
teaage, not a syllable of which she uo
(rstaada. So that the ppr girl's inno
cent spirits begin to fail ber. and she
traepa from day to day. and lose ber
ester and bar appetite, until Lord Luton
tore1 res the difference, and asks her af
asrfioaately what is the matter, and all
fito answer she ms..es him is by bursting
kite a food of tears.
CHAPTER XVI.
They are in the large drawing-room in
Cavendish square at the time, which is
the fag end of a winter's afternoon. Kusie
i .seated at the graad rpiaao. where she
has bees vainly end savoring to overcome
the dinVnltie of a aew waits; and at the
as ad of her sobs. Lord La ton leaves his
at the are, and crosses to her
"What ails yon. my darlingr ha hv
lirt. "Ireyou ill?"
, refrfsw the girl. In a anted raise.
"What la it. tben. chat Brakes yon errf"
"Xsthlng." she answers.
"The I aawvM ad via ro to dry too'
at ear, says aer Bosband, la hia
T"v yw yesj don't aasarstand."
3, 1 Mf .tesa I don't, tad
1 mi afraid I j
shall not understand, until yon take the
trouble to inform me. Come, my child."
he continues, in the half-paternal man
ner he usually assumes with her, "don't
be ailly. If you have any trouble, tell it
me. thought it as an agreement we
were to have no secret from one an
other?" "But but Mrs. Lambert ha secrets
with you." sob Susie. "She was whis
pering to you all yesterday eveuiug on the
sofa."
"Oh. that's where the shoe pinch-, is
it?" cries Luton gayly.
"Don't laugh at me. Philip. I cannot
bear it. She calls you Thil.' and she
talks to you in I n n -h, and it makes me
feel so stupid."
"Come, this is more serious than 1 im
agined." -ays !ord Luton. "It is true
that you cannot talk to me in French,
my darling; and. now I come to think
of it, it is very rude of Mrs. George ; use
a language which you do not understand.
But if a lady addresses a man in French,
what can he do but answer ber? And
as for your other charge, Susie, of her
calling me Thil." why, she has done it
for the last. five ream, and I could hardly
object to it. now."
"I never call you Thil.' Hut it isn't
because I am afraid of you." she whis
pers. "It is because I look up to you, and
honor yon so much."
"My own darling! I love yon for say
ing so. and wish I were more worthy of
yonr honor and respect. Oh, never doubt
my love for you. Susie, whatever may
occur. I have had a miserable life till
now, and there are many black shadows
in my past at which you don't even
guess. But the possession of yon is like
a pure, bright stream of sunshine thrown
straight across my path. If I am some
times gloomy or reserved, !e wise, and
do not resent it. There are people acts,
wrongs in my past life that haunt me
until I am well-nigh driven to madness.
But you will cure me. sweet one! Your
child-like trust and affection will prove
the antidote to my sorrow. And in the
future who knows-heaven may send me
new ties, all breathing of you that will
reconcile me to the irremediable past."
He kisses ber fondly several times, and
then rising to his feet, place her in the
arm-chair. Ilia manner changes on the
Instant. One moment back he was earn
es.t, energetic almost defiant; now he is
once more the courteous, insouciant Iord
Luton.
"Best there. I,ady Luton." he says,
playfully, "and repent of all your ains.
ft is past five, and I must run down to the
club for an htnr lsfore dinner. If you are
very good, I will come back punctually
and take you to the theater this evening.
But, before all, remember that my last
orders are thHt you are to consider your
self, as 1 do. the most charming and lova
ble little woman that was ever sent down
from heaven to make a miserable man
happy."
He waves bis baud as he sjeak. and
disappears through the folding doora, with
a smile and a look upon his handsome
face that lingers with Susie, after bp has
gone, and makes ber supremely happy.
The dusk has fallen and the large fire
which flickers fitfully on the various arti
cles of furniture, leaving the corners of
the room in gloom, is all the light that she
reontres to oream fir. win rioe hi
. ,.
rise to pull the bell and order the evening
lamps to be brought in. and twice does
she sink hack again npon the chair, un
willing so soon to break the sweet train
of thonghl Ixird Luton's words have in-
Sjiireil.
She sits there in the gloaming with ber
hands clasicd. and her fair young face
fixed earnestly ufsiu the fire, lost in a
happy reverie, for pcrhups half an hour.
Tiicii she remembers a letter from her
father that requires an answer, and ris
ing suddenly to her feet, advances to the
bell to ring for liehts. She has scarcely
reached it when she starts violently. An
other figure is standing on the hearthrug
besidi- her. Susie thinks at first if is her
new lady's-niatd.
"What do yon want?" she asks, eagerly.
"Why do you come npon me like this
without any warning?"
But the figure on the hearthrug does
not answer, and the fire flaming up at
that moment cast a light upon it, which
reveals the same woman who gained en
trance to her rooms at Scsrboro'. Susie
recognise her at once, and her blood
seems to freer in her veins with horror.
There she stand, in the white dress she
wore before, clinging round her little fig
are like a flag, with her dark rnrly bair
falling over ber pate, weird fare, and
her black eyes filed angrily on Susie,
while ber lipa move, bnt witbont sound,
and the same word are formed by their
dumb action:
"He is mino."
Susie is paralysed with terror, ftbe
does not know whether to fly or remain
whether to scream or to bo silent; so she
stands opposite the flgare, staring at it,
while ber breath is draws ia abort, sharp
gasps of alarm.
"He Is mine," repeats the silent lips,
while the woman' brows ere knitted with
defiance.
"He is notT' cries Susie, desperation
lending ber temporary courage. "If yon
mean my husband, be is not yours; be is
mine, and mine only, fur evermore."
As the word escape from her the figurt
spiiears to advance with a still more men
acing attitude uptn her, and, a-ith a shrill
scream. Susie turns to fly, and falls be
fore she can reach the door. The aervant
coming in a moment afterward with
lamps, finds his mistress insensible npon
the floor, and the apartment empty. Ha
rails assistance, and ha women take her
to her room, but Lady Laton can give da
accoant whatever of the illness that over
took her. She says she (eft fabst and
waa going to ber room, and remember
nothing more.
Ilia mors sh rsioeu spoa it, the more
certain Snsia become that ah baa sea
the apparition of the late !ady Ijwtoa.
Stlil. sh ferls that ah wM Hk to ho
cert a la; sad whea lira, George Lambert.
calling the next day. and bearing she is ill,
insist fussily upoo visiting her in ber
dressing-room, she determine, is possible,
to obtain the desired information from
her.
"I hop you are not given to this sort
fcf thing, my dear chiid," say Mrs. Lam
bert patronizingly; "for I am afraid Phi!
oiild make but an indifferent sick nurse.
He has no sympathy with weak and ail
ing people, and declares hysterics and
faints to be ouly affectation. But then
the first I-ady Luton waa so very strong,
you see wiry, I called her. She never
knew what it was to be fatigued, and
spoilt Phil in consetjueuce for all less
robust women."
" M rs. I ji m bert ." e j acu la t es S u sie, rat her
suddenly. "hy is there no portrait of
her in this house?"
Mrs. George op-ns her big blue eye to
their widest eitelit.
"What a funny question, I-ady Lntnn!
Why. Phil did away with them, of course.
You wouldn't have the place filled with
mementoes of her. would you? Fancy
the awkwardness of it with strangers,
bo might not know the truth."
"Oh. ye! I can understand that he
would not wish it talked alsiut before him.
He fe-ls it too much for that. But you
were her friend, were you not. Mrs. Ijiiu
bert ?"
"Well, my dear. I was acquainted with
her. certainly, and intimately at one time.
I may say, but it mas ouly through Phil
that I knew her. He and George were
college chuma. you know; and wbeu Ird
Luton married. e naturally visited his
wife."
"But haven't you a photograph, or any
picturc of ber that you could show me?"
"I had several photographs of her, taken
at different times; but. of course, when
the unfortunate event hapened, I took
them out of my albums and stowed them
away somewhere. Phil is always looking
over uiy colli-ctioii of friends, and I didn't
wish to stir up any disagreeable recollec
tion in his breast, stor fellow."
The upshot of it is. that she reappears
the follow ing day. She sits for some lime,
chatting on indifferent subjects, while
Susie is trying to summon up courage to
ak her if she has brought the photo
graphs with her. until, all at on-e. Mrs.
George dives into her esthetics! velvet
satchel, snd brings them out.
"By the way. I had nearly forgotten the
photos; but here they are. and a nice work
my maid had to find them, I can tell yon.
They had Im-ch pushed right to the back
of one of the drawers in my davenport."
She throws a little packet on Susie's lap
as she s;eaks, which the girl commence,
with trembling fingers, to unclose.
"You must only just look at them, and
let me lake them buck again." says Mrs.
Lambert, "for I believe Phil would hale
me if be thought I bad brought them
here."
The first one Susie glances at repre
sents 'he face, the figure, the very dre
of the woman who has twice visited her.
The picture of Lord Luton's first wife Is.
in every respect, the picture of the myste
rious stranger. It is true, then. She has
stood face to face with the dead! The
thought appalls her. and Susie turns siii.
and faint again.
"What is the matter. Lady Luton? You
are not ill. surely. Those photograph
in never upset you like this."
Susie turns to her eagerly; she feels
she must make a confidante of some one.
hy not Mrs. Ijimlwrt. who has been
on intimate terms with the dead woman,
and she does so, telling her of the ap
parition she has seen.
"But what did she want?", asks Mrs.
Lambert. "Did she only force her way
in to insult you? I can fancy her l-!ng
quite capable of it: or did she ask for
money? I have heard she is in ant; and
are yon sure she was sober?"
These questions ptixalcd Susie beyond
all telling.
"Drink!" she echoes, wistfully; "money!
But what should a spirit want with
drink or money?"
Mrs. George opens" her blue eves si ill
wider.
"Yon sek of your husband's firM wife
as if she were dead. Do you really imag
ine she is dead?"
"Dead- dead." rep" Susie, io a be
wildered manner, "of course she is dead.
How could Philip have married inc unless
she were dead? Besides. I have ci n her:
I tell you r have seen her!"
"My dear girl, what yon have seen is
either the living woman or an halluciiiii
tion: Lady Luton (that as is no more
dead than you are. It would le a good
job if she were, for perhaps llien poor
Phil might insnaifc to forget her. W.
can't weep forever over the dead. But
she did a thousand times worse than die;
she disgraced him anil herself."
"Not dead!" says Susie incredulously;
"but how then can he have married me?"
"Why! he got a divorce from, her, of
course, you innocent! She ran away from
him with a young officer, the Honorable
Oeil Knat'-hbull, who deserted her be
fore the decree absolute waa passed; and
no one knows, for certain, what has be
come of her. It was a terrible blow to
poor Phil; more perhaps for his pride than
bis affection; for he couldn't possibly
have loved a woman with such a temper.
And so. you see, it must have been Mag
dalen herself whom yoo saw, Iidy Lu
ton. It csnnof have been her ghost; for I
know that she is still alive."
"Alive!" murmurs Susie to herself.
"Alive! I never thought of thi. Oh. I
would see a thousand ghosts rather than
have heard it!"
f'HAPTKK XVII.
Snsie's head is filled with the slrsiige
visit she hss received, and the astonnding
revelstion It hs evolved from Mrs.
George's lips. The other woman, also,
seeing the effect the troth hss npon Lady
Latoo. and being anxious to estsblisb ber
indisputable right to be Philip' closest
friend and confidante, tskes good rsre to
follow up the sdvantage she hss gained.
Bh barks back to the subject each time
they meet, with some fresh instance of
the late wife's treachery. ,
Susie baa begun to dread tbe sdvent of
this lady a if she were her bitterest ene
my; for sbs never visit her without leav
ing a stiag behind ber to wound tbe girl'
innocent heart. Although she is young,
she has a prond and easily-wounded spirit,
and the suggestion thrown out by Mrs.
Lambert are agony to her. And. after she
bas heard them, she turn for tbe first
time from ber husband's caresses, when
be draws her to hia side one evening.
"Why! what is the matter?" be ash.
"Leave me alone!" she eielaims. sharp
ly. "Barely I may do a I like. Yon let
yonr first wife have her own way
enough."
As she utters the words, and looks np la
her band face, ah sees It completely
change both la ex press loa aad la color.
Lord Latoa atagacra baetwird, almost as
if ah had struck him a Mow serosa the
face, aad tarn taaair jmI.
"Susie," be commence, and h think
that eves the lone of bis voice in pro
bouunng her name is alien d. "I made no
bargain with you before our marriage
with repe-t to discussing the late Lady
Lutou or her actions, because I believed
that your own sense of delicacy, and your
love for me, would prevent your doing o.
But a it i not tbe case, I must tell you,
once and forever, that 1 will not have ber
named between us. You did not know
her, therefore you can be no fit judge of
her action or mine. That I loved you
utficiently to put you in ber place should
be enough fur you. And I must request
nay, 1 do more than request I command
that this is the last time you allude to
her in my presence. Io you understand
me?"
Susie's transient burst of spirit is over.
She ha no more courage left to speak de
fiantly, but she manage to ob out:
"Yes! I understand. Yon loved me uf
ficiently to put me in her place, but you
do not love me a well as you loved her,
and yon know it as well as I do."
She exjiei ts lrd Luton, perhaps, to
throw himseif on the sofa hesid" her, and
sure her 1 1 the contrary, but he doe no
s'ich thing. His only answer is convey
id by bis striding across the rmra, and
slnimiiitig the duor after him. as he quits
her. to sjicud the evening at his club.
From this day Sui'- Iwnmn very un
happy. Mis. Lamlx rt's constant sugges
tions, and her hushaud's refusal to answer
the i ii sin u;t r i. .n she cast at him. rankle in
her mind, and make her believe that be
has married her out of a secie of pique
against himself for being nnable to for
get Ihc Horthli-ss woman who first bore
his iiami'. Her husband, who really loves
her very sincerely, resume ail his former
nffectiomitc manner toward ber, and takes
her down the following week to Luton
stowe, which is a Is-autiftil seat in Hert
fordshire. (To le "continued.) '
Just Too Lain.
"We ure now coming to tin- tunnel,"
s.i il the cautioua lover, "awl according
io the f.sdish tradition of others In
love we must kiss each other. I men
tion it because I did out wish to sur
prise you."
"Nothing iliii! yon could do would
surprise tne." she said.
"D o-do you see anyone up know?"
"NiK a soul."
"Nor anyone that knows us?"
"No, no."
"I suppose there Isn't any sticking
plaster on your face?"
"No. Why?"
"It might betray u. 1 read of a
young man like me. who kissed a girl
like you when tlicy were going through
tiiiiticl."
"Wll. what of it? How low yon
are."
"The sticking piaster w as on her face
when they went In; when rhey came
out It was on his."
"How lovely. We are nearly through
the tunnel."
"Then It musi lie now or never," said
the cautious lover, and the passengers
smiled audibly, for tbe train emerged
Into the broad daylight Just a be. sa
luted Ilia girl with the long-deferreij
kiss. Detroit Free Pre.
A t'hlld'M Tribute to Longfellow.
A New-Yorker ami hia family while
iti l-ornloii mi id a visit to Westminster
Mrtv. The jKH-ta' corner" attracted
tin-in. of course, nnd here they paused
InfigitM before the bust of IIigfelow.
Nellie, the eldest daughter, carried a
rrc. As they tumil awfi.v she laid It
reverently mur the gentle face. Her
sister Maliel, a child of H. was missed
from the party n few minute later.
Looking backward, they saw ber stand
on tiptoe to place KOiuetblng within the
itiHiidc folds of the drapery.
"Wlm arc yon doing. Mabel?"' the
father Hsl.cd. when she Jolnwl them.
"Nellie lnd a rose, and I hudn't any
th IP'.:." the child witld. bravely, "no I
bit oft' one of my curls and gave Mr.
IHIgfl'lloW lull."
A filter Justice's Hon In I'overty.
"Ofte of (he uiont pathetic instance
of fortune' iiniiiiiiona l that of the
Marsluill family of Virginia," wild a
rKi.lcn; of Mhiihssh. Va. "Chief Jus,
lice Marshall wns adniittmlly one of
the grcatiHt men A merlin ever had
within Itji Isirdcrs. He was possessed
of a princely domain, consisting of sev
eral eotiutiew In Northern Virginia.
This maziiifbi-ni property was left to
his son. w ho still lives in Warren Coun
ty at a very advanced age. Owing to
hi, generous nature, the son waa mined
hy security debts, and unfortunate In
vestments, ami trad by tract his land
waa wild. The lave were all freed
nud the fortune w gone. The old
man lives with a nun, and all rp poor."
How u Mend a Hilk Waist.
A dressmaker lays down three rules;
for mending a nllk waist: I'se ravel
ing when you can. Hew from the
tinder side. Mt mtf turn over edges,
but darn flat and trnt to careful press
ing. If a bone begins to show through,
do not mend, but cut off the bone an
Inch. If the silk wears off around
ibe books and eyes, move them along
ever so little. Make a virtue of worn
out seams by applying black feather
stitching; and remember that a slik
waist I good as long as tbe tipper
part of the sleeves remain. Plastron,
choker, lace, enffs and careful mend
ing make a new waist for yon.
A Calliorala Crop that Pays.
There la an enortnona crtp of atigar
hefts lu Han Benito Ounty, Cal., this
year. The average yield twelve tons
an acre, which will net I3.rs0 a ton. A
an instance of the profit In this crop, a
stiry la told of seven brothers, Danes,
who rented a farm of 279 acres, paying
for it 17 an aero as tbe rent. They have
raised not leas than eighteen, and prob
ably twenty, tons to the acre. Thro
of the Dane have done nearly all Ibe
work, the others being engaged In an
other bed raising enterprise near Wat
sonvlllc. It la aaJd that on tbe first
farm the three; will make 14.000 tbta
year above all expenses.
Kitty Harry won't tak no fo in an
awer. Kato Mow do jron know) Kin
Becaoae I oba'a't girt It to 'Hm.
txfd and Rata.
AN UMBRELLA STAND
FItOM barrels, boxes and odd bits
of wood, the aid of hammer, nail
and glue ami the transform:!!;:
assisiam-c of paint, gilt and varnish,
many a home convenience may In- dc-vclH-d
!'' am at curs. A design for flu
umbrella eland, illustrated and describ
ed in the Ladies" Home Journal, for
Instance. Is made of ordinary wovl and
covered with burlap or bagging, liuiiiu
ed at the edges w ith screws or slim steel
wire nails. Over the entire otititide of
the Isix stretch burlap or bagging, mich
as furniture is wrapiw-d and packed in.
Fasten the material In place with flat
headed carpet tacks or liquid glue. Af
ter the glue Is dry the burlap may be
treated to several coats of pnlnt of some
d.wirsblc color. Afler the first coat I
b
VlylF. I iinllKI.I A STA.VU
applied the box should stand for a few
days, so that the jmlnt may thoroughly
dry lieforc tbe second cont la applied.
When the laat coat of paint has dried
hard the corners of the Ikix may be
decorated by driving ornamental nail
or tacks at even distances aimrt around
each of the four aidin. Any design can
he worked out In the following manner:
On s large smooth piece of pnier draw
an oblong, to represent one side of the
leix. 1(1 Inchon wide and 30 indies long.
On this draw the design with a soft
lead pencil and make four tissue per
tracings of It. Faeten one tracing on
each side of the Ikix at a time and lie
gin to drive the nails on the line fairly
close together, but not so that the bead
will touch each other. Drive the nails
in half way, and when all the limn of
the design have txH-n followed tear
away the tUsue paper and hammer the
nai!x In flush. Large bonded iron car
pet tacks can lie used for thin purpose,
but lliey should first be treated to a
coal of thin, black (Mint.
When the outside of the Ikix ia finish
ed it will 1m- niNVKxary to give I he In
side a i-ixit or two of some dark-colored
paint or asphnltum varnish to protect
It from moisture. A r.lnc tray that will
fit Ittfilde the stand, to catch the drip
pings from wet umbrellas, can be made
by any tinsmith.
The Winter Completion.
When the woman who has delighted
ly lived out of d'Him all summer In rural
scene lluds herself returned to brick
nulls and city couventloiialltli, she is
somewhat abashed at the condition of
her skin. Freckles nud sunburn are
ru'lier effective than otherwise under
tne garden hat or mountain cap. but
w,:h the natty tailor-made gown of
early autumn and generally smart ef
fect of city tnilertiw, one wishes some
how those sk!n idi'iuislics hud Immu let:
in the country along with the lost tennis
Imlls. broken or and other midsum
mer rubbish.
Sometimes lite simple washing of the
f.;ce every night for a few nights with
pure castile soup and tepid water will
be all that Is needed, but If the freckle
sill! hold, a lotion published by (lie Moil
leal Hei-ord. and pronounced harmless,
will remove them. The formula for
this is: Four ounces laclic add, two
ounces glycerine, one ounce rose water.
.fier using the lotion apply a pure cold
cream to allay any burning sensation.
Vaseline nu the face or hands Is no!
recommended by complexion special
ists, as It has a tendency after a while
to yelliw the skin. It Is. Ixicer. an
excellent thing to touch the lip wh
on going out windy, autumn days. It
prevents the hardening and cracking to
which tender-skinned jicofilc are sub
ject at the first harsh breese. Touch
only the lln and try not to moisten
them afterwsrd.-Amcrlean Cultivator.
fore est ill I atcrtaluin?.
The woman who apologizes for the
little she has must always be a failure
when she entertains. Vet her non-success
is no greater than that of her sis
ter who is so overwhelmed lir I
deur as never to be able to esjnal her
. conditions. There are hostesses in
great houc who seem io la- ito more
. s part of their surroundings than
j frightened mice who sit In corners.
The secrel. In fad, of success, In en
tertaining I as subtile and elusive as
the secret of charm. Yet few things In
life, unless It lie the way to bring up
children, irmpt the world into laying
down no many laws on the aubjert, or
Into framing so many precepts. Tbe se.
, 'et, however, must always lie elusive,
iswausr It lies In tbe power of person
.al(tythe personality of boat or bos
j less; ami by personality I mean the ex
pression which each Individual nature
hs consciously framed for Itself. And
in this expression lie tad and lasts,
nerotis Imiitthv. fc'ndlv feeling, love
,!!
II I' 1 1 -.'STT
fi t. I -rSiTtr
P'f'i 1 1 nil? ! r'
of others, sulsirdluation of self, readl-
ties to give and willingness to receive,
! power of adaptability, desire for har
' mony. And these tests of success bola
! g'sul whether the entertaining involves
j lavish display. In which the unacrus
! tomed are apt to lie bewildered, or la
dudes only hospitality extended to
those who would otherwise l with
out shelter. Harrier's Bazar.
Hot"! for Heap talitv-
Do not monoKllre any good thing.
Do not Intrude Into your host's af
fair. Co direct when the call or visit la
ended.
Do not make a hobby of personal In-
flnnltii-s.
Do not overdo the matter of cnssr-i
talnmetit.
Do not forget bathing facilities or'
the guest.
"Make yourself at home," hut not two
much so.
In ministering to the guest do not
ticgb-ct the family.
Do not make unnwessary work fr
others, even servants.
Do not gslp; there are better things
In life to think about.
Let no member of the family Intrude
In the guest chamber.
Conform to the custom of thp hnoac,
especially as to meals.
lie courteous, but not to the extent of
siiiTcnderWg principle.
When several guests are present, gym
a share of uttentloti to all.
Introduce games or diversion, ' but
only such as are agreeable.
Hotter simple fisH with pleasure than
luxurli-s with annoyance and worry.
Have a comfortable room In msoi
jofs. adapted to the needs and taslew f
the guests.
A giient need not an'cpt every pro
poned entertainment; he should he eon
sldenite of himself and hi host.
U-urn the likes and dislikes of tboss
who are to lie entertained, btit aot
through the medium of n Imperative
catechism. Rural Home.
Cousin of Mrs. Clev'et,
"Amelia's Palace" Is the cynosure of
all travelers' eyes la the Latter-Day
Ion. Kveryone who spends an hour
In Halt I-ake City visits the handsome,
three-story structure dignified by that
title. The woman whose -morr bhe
building will iK-rpemnTO m f!I llviag.
Amelia Koksoni Young, the elxteeoth
nun. ham voi.no s rAvoitira wiai.
and favorite wife of Hrlghsm Young, is
still handsome and remarkably well
preserved. So well has she managed
the I its-nil estate left by her famous
husband that It has linri-Hscd many
times lu value ami she Is one of the
wealthiest of her sex In the Far West.
She has exceptionally refined tastes and
Is fond of travel, having made sewnil
extensive F.umpcun tours. Mrs. Young
is a devout Mormon. Hhe retddes, not
lu the jKiIace. but In a spacious home a
few bhsks west of the historic build
lug. She la a cousin of Mrs. fjrnrer
Cc eland.
tUIs and Knda of Jewelry.
The newest sSM.n this year I sue
ihni stirs the claret enp. It hs a han
dle eighteen Inches king and promises
not to get lost, no matter how deep the
pitcher may !.
A golf sctwe with pencil cii ..,. 75,
Slid the newest oildlwd silver belt
buckle cimts anywhere from $.1 to $X.
This buckle ornaments all colors In belt
Iblsin.
Belts, garter and purse have reeeiv
ed the most of Ihc designers' attention,
ap)mrettly -and an far aa spoon are
concerned there la now a particular
siMwm Io aerve every edible menthwed
In the menu.
A da in purse ia the most foolksh lit
tie purse In the world, but women love
Just such foolish things. Thi year they
are set In ametbyat. and the guard
chain, which goes around the neek, la
fastened at the belt with a guard pin.
Where th Beat llrlar Urowa.
The beat miar twit from which pine
are made com from the border of
France aud Italy. In tbe mountalaon
districts of those countries, roots are
dug out which have grown for ages,
and are sometime larger than a man's
body, weighing hundreds of pound.
The wood ibna obtained In remarkably
beautiful. Three large detswUa of the
root have Iswn just discovered In
France, and tbe price may be brought
down In time.
CnaTaa la Kortbora Latitat.
The farther north the more injorl
oiia to tba humaa system la the oa of
coffee. Orvenmndera have found It aw-
caaarr to prohibit Ita oae by the
4
(
.Ay .