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L
CHAPTEK IX. (Continued.)
On day the idea that Will and she
ere parted for aU their lives bore in o
forcibly upon her mind that the poor
thild could find no relief except in tears.
She had wandered to a part of the park
rhich wan called "The Fairy Dell," on
iceouat of the way In which the tree
were interlaced abore it, and the lovely
arret of moil and fern that wai spread
teneath them.
"Why do you cry?" demanded a child's
roii.,.- close to her ear.
Evelyn looked np in amazement
I;: the fairy dell, with her hands full of
lue forget-me-nots, stood, the loveliest
Srtle girl she had ever seen. In age be
tween six and seven years old, her flaxen
iair curled like spun silk about her face
and shoulders, and her large blue eyes,
haded by dark lashes, looked out at Eve
lyn wistfully from a complexion of milk
and roses. Evelyn saw nothing but the
face charming, cherub-like face that
beamed on her like that of a little angel.
"Oh, you darling I" she exclaimed.
"Wi-ere did you come from? What is
- four name?"
"I'm Aggie, and I've run away," re
plied the little one, with infantine glee.
"But where have you run from, my
darling? Come nearer don't be afraid of
me and tell me where you live."
. 'Tm n,ot afraid," replied the child, bold
ly drawing close to her new friend, and
paring up into her face. "I'm Aggie, and
I live over there," waving her band iu a
vague manner about ber bead.
Evelyn Rayne was affectionate and im
pulsive. Her heart was hungering for
love amidst all the luxury with which she
was surrounded, and the child's sympa
thy touched her deeply. She opened her
- arms suddenly, and clasped her to her
bosom with an intuition that they would
love each other. And the intuition proved
to be correct. She soon found that the
little girl was Agnes Featherstone, the
only child of a rich banker and his wife,
UviLg at Featherstone Hall, a place about
a mile distant from Mount Eden.
Mrs. Featherstone was very pleased her
daughter should have the advantage of
an older companion to look after and play
with her. and Ewlyn soon loved Agnes
with a devotion that could scarcely have
been exceeded had she been her own. Her
heart was empty, and she filled it with
little Agnes Featherstone.
When Evelyn was nineteen, Miss Mid
dleton left her. She considered her pupil's
education was finished, and that it was
time she assumed her position as head of
her nude's ht; Behold. But a very few
weeks after this chance had been made,
the mot unexpected event of our heroine's
life occurred to her.
Fhe came flown to breakfast one mora
ine to lie told by Mrs. Wedderbum that
.Mr. f'jtrjil wsis no more. He had been
fw ' iVsd in hi bed when his attendant
we: :.j rotiM" hint.
I" ''iyn received c news as any youi j:
gir! would have done with a terrible
sense of horror and bereavement. She
wov.u have sent at uae for her Aunt
Ms ;a to keep her coss'pauy, but. alas!
poo- Mis liajne (who had looked for-'
wa ' to that day as one in which Eve
lyn '-oi:M not forget her.) had joined the
gTf f majority six months before, and
her niece felt utterly alone.
' Tsen came tbe funeral, and the law
yer?, and the will; and she heard, to her
am:. . i stent, that instead of a legacy, as
she ':.:! expected, she was left (failing
the return of her co'jri:; Iltigh) the sole
'Inheritrix of that vast cnstle, with fifteen
thousand a year to keep it np on.
i
chapter x.
",' ion't believe," said Captain Philip,
as he v'retchei himself with more pleas
ure than prudence on the thyme-scented,
moss-enameled turf, "I don't believe, If
you were to (search all England or the
world Itwlf, for that matter you could
End a lovelier spot than Mount Eden."
"I quite agree with you,' replied John
Vernon, a he inhaled a deep draught of
the fresh, exhilarating air, and his eye
revel over an expanse of undulating hills
and fertile pasture lands.
It was spring. The trees had just as
sumed a mantle of tender green, and the
U'.acs and laburnums were in blossom.
John Vernon, fresh home from sea,
strod by the captain's Fide, with his sun
burnt face and curly head uncovered,
looking as if be could never be satisfied
with the natural beauties that surround
ed him.
"It is lovely." continued Vernno, pres
ently exquisitely and nnmitigatingly
lovely. We've knocked about a bit to
gether. Captain Philip, and we've seen
some grand scenery in India and Aus
tralia, on the Himalaya Mountains, and
tn the bush, but nothing to beat this. Just
lof.k at those uplands !o the left. When
ti.e breeze ripples through the young
blades of grass, you might fancy you were
on the sea azain. What splendid timber
there is on the estate, too. and what rich
(snarasf! I counted thirty cowa In that
field yonder."
"I dare s;iy," rejoined the captain, care
lessly; "and that'a not the half of the
milking herd. A good deal of the reve
nues of Mount Eden are derived from its
dairy and farm produce. I could hardly
tell you. without reference to my books.
bow many head of rattle we tend op to the
Lor don market annually.
"fetich place moat be worth thousands
a year."
"It is worth fifteen thousand, or there
abouts."
"And It all Moot to a bit of a firll
How aboard It asims," said Vernon, who
considered the lane law as a gross In
jury to the stronger sex.
Captain Philip laughed.
"Ynnr description hardly appliee to Miss
Ravne. In the first place, she la a worn
en who baa left her girlhood behind her.
In the second, aha la a very tall and die
nificd one."
"Oh. I tee! Am eld Bald."
"Hardly that, eKher," returned the cap
tain, dryly: "Mian Bays waa twenty
even, I beusrra, oa her teat birthday. Bnt
be Is qsrtte ee,aaJ to snsnsgisg her owa
affaire, aad wtaMa her aeaatar twar hloaat
Eden royally."
"Captain Patta," aaid the yoanger sua,
after a paaaa, "will yon forgive me for
aartec mmmmmt Thai la a beautlfai
Mirtrr aad a aha flag estate. I e
admira It aa saosa aa yea 4a, aad after
taochiag ahaat at sea far the iaet three
rea, tt rart aad 'ha ehaac are but toe
delightful. Yet I ceuld not endure it for
always. I should miss the excitement and
active work of our profession. This
peaceful, uneventful life would pall upon
me, and I cannot understand your having
chucked up the service so suddenly, to
bury yourself down here."
John Vernon was a young fellow of per
haps two-and-twenty, who had had but
little experience of life. It did not, there
fore, strike him as anything strange that
Captain Philip should busy himself in
filling and lighting a pipe before be an
swered his observation.
"My boy," he said, when he did speak,
"I never cared for the service as you do.
I entered it before I knew what I was
about, or what lay before me, and I
stayed in it because there was no other
opening for me. But it was never a pro
fession to my taste."
"And jet you were always quoted to me
as such an excellent seaman, with a per
fect knowledge of your duties," replied
Vernon, in a tone of disappointment.
"I tried to do my duty, Jack, while I
remained tn it. and probably, had this
billet not been offered to me, I might have
been in the merchant service to this day.
But but well, I don't mind telling you,
lad, that I was brought up in a higher
social sphere, and that the moral atmos
phere and surroundings of a seafaring
life were never to my taste. It Is differ
ent with you. Jack. You eome of a fam
ily of sailors, and, I dare say, your moth
er mixed your first pap with salt water.
You are in your right element at sea, and
you will go on till you reach the top of
the tree. I shall see you, if I live, with
a ship or two of your own, by-and-by,
while I am still checking the farrier's and
corn-chandler's accounts for Mount
Eden."
"And you can prefer such work," ex
claimed Vernon, rather contemptuously,
"to the glorious excitement of riding over
the waves, and the substantial bepefit of
trading with foreign couutries? Captain
Philip, I cannot understand it. To live
all alone in that little cottage, pretty as
it may be, and spend one's life in looking
after somebody else's money, is so tame
and unvaried an existence compared to
that to which we have been accustomed,
that it would drive me mad."
"And to me it Is paradise. Therein lies
the difference," replied Captain Philip,
calmly pulling at his pipe. "I like my
own company, Vernon, and I love Mount
Eden. My pipe Is sufficient society for
me, as a rule, and I like to feel that I am
directing the management of this vast
estate, and making it yield all the profits
of which it is capable."
"What is your interest in it?" demand
ed Veruon curtly.
His companion started.
"My interest! Why, that of land agent
and overseer, to be sure. What other in
terest could I have? I am Miss Kayne's
servant, b t I am also her right hand and
confidential adviser; and I don't think she
would hud it easy to replace me. I have
the same interest in Mount Eden that I
bad in my ship; I want to do my duty by
it. That is alL"
"But you knew this part of Hampshire
before you came to Mount Eden, cap
tain?" "Who told you so?"
"I guessed it from your evident famil
iarity with everything about you. One
does not gain such a thorough knowledge
of the soil and the idiosyncracies of the
people in a twelvemonth."
"Well, I was in the county as a boy
in fact, I was born iu Hampshire," said
Captain Philip, somewhat reluctantly;
"but that fact could have no power to
keep me in my present position, for I left
it too early te have obtained any service
able knowledge. And I have no friends
living here now none whatever."
They bad been strolling leisurely along
a breezy bit of upland, and then through
a green lane, on their way to the stables,
and had just turned Into a copse at the
foot of the lower drive. Veruon looked
up and saw a tall, gracioua woman ad
vancing slowly to meet them, with her
hands full of fragrant blossoms. All be
saw was a small head, crowned with a
luxuriance of chestnut hair, which spoke
well for the physical health of Its owner!
a broad, intellectual forehead, a month
full of firmness aud sweetness combined,
and a pair of lovely dark blue eyes, large,
long and heavy-lidded, but with a very
searching look in their Mediterranean
depths. Her beauty burst upon John Ver
non like a revelation. He thought he
had never seen so truly handsome a wom
an if lia life before.
CHAPTER XI.
"Good morning, Captain Philip," the
said, with a smile and aa Inclination of
ber bead, but without offering him her
band; "I saw you coming over the three
cornered poteh and waited to speak to
you here."
"Good morning, Misa Rayoe. I bone
you are quite well?" responded the cap
tain; "I have been showing my young
friend, Mr. Vernon, who is staying at the
cottage for a few days, the view from
Fern Hill, and he is as charmed with it
as the rest of the world."
A Captain Philip indicated the pres
ence and personality of John Vernon,
Miss Rayne turned to him and bowed, hut
very Blightly. There waa evidently just
that understanding between her land
agent and herself that there should be.
She was perfectly at ease with Captain
Philip, but she was not familiar with him.
"1 am glad that Mr. Vernon admires
our scenery," said Evelyn, after a panae,
"and it Is a day to make everything look
Ita beat. I wonder," abe continued, ton
ing on ber heel to gaae at ber fair do
main, "I wonder If there Is an eonntry
in the world where print i more beautl
fai than in England?"
"In America," commenced Vernon, with
all the confidence of a very young aaan,
before the other sex baa taken to snub
bing him; "In the Western States of
America, Miaa Rayne, the spring "
Miaa Rayne turned upon bian suddenly
with an unmistakable look of displeasure
tn ber eyea.
"I know nothing of America," she said
hurriedly, aa she buried her face In her
flowers; "Captain Philip, I am afraid wa
hall bare to d lamia Roberta after all.
Wlteoa telle me he was the worse for
liaoor agia but night."
"I waa aa mj way to the atablaa to la
talra into It, Miaa Raa, aad into a fraah
error la hla account. Jaat laak at that
j bill," replied Captain Philip. i i,Uu lug
a long slip or paper from his waistcoat
pocket.
"Absurd," she exclaimed; "forty liuh
els of oats. Captain Philip, it cannot be
forty. It is too ridiculous!"
"It is written down forty, pi in enough,"
he answered, "but he cannot have fairly
used half the quantity. I am afraid there
is nothing for it but ditmiisal. The man
will evidently take no warning."
"We must go and see about it." said
Miss Rayne promptly.
She turned quickly, aud, without an
other glance at Vernon, walked by Cap
tain Philip's side. The captain paw that
she expected him to accompany her aloue.
"Go back and wait for me at the cot
tage, Jack," be called over his shoulder
to the young man, who was compelled un
willingly to obey. A few minutes' walk
brought him to his friend's cottage. He
threw himself into an arm chair, and be
gan to think it must be dinner time.
The cloth waa spread upon the table.
A large ham, cut, a few fresh, crip let
tuces, and a Stilton cheese stood on it;
and when the captain returned, a dish of
new potatoes would complete the frugal
meal. He had warned Vernon v. hat he
had to expect in visiting Bachelor Hall.
He had retained all the simple habits of
seafaring life. A heavy meal revolted in
stead of stimulating his appetite, and he
lived almost as sparingly as a hermit. Hut
there was nothing hermit-like iu the miin
ner in which, half an hour later, the cap
tain entered the cottage. His bundi-oiue
face was smiling joyfully, and he flung his
oft felt bat down on the floor like an
impetuous boy.
"No more work to-day. .lack!" be ex
claimed, "and as soon as we've swallowed
our dinner we'll ride over to I,eightou aud
see tue retrievers I was talking to you
about this morning. 1 suppose you can
manage to stick .u a horse, and I have
always the privilege f mounting a friend
from the Mount Eden stables."
"But what's in the wind now, captain?"
inquired the younger man, as they drew
their chairs up to the table and commenc
ed to attack the ham; "I thought you said
this afternoon was to see the foundation
laid to a new decoy '!"
"So it was arranged, my boy; but every
thing's altered now. Mits Kayne has re
ceived news that put everything else out
of her head. The Feathersloues have re
tujijed to the lis II."
"And is that circumstance of sufficient
importance to ni.et all her plans?"
"My dear fellow, you don't understand
the attachment that exists between Miss
Rayne and Miss Featherstone, or you
wouldn't ask such a question. I never
saw two people so fond of one another in
my life before! They are simply insep
arable, or rather they have been until
this winter. But Mrs. Featherstone took
it suddenly Into ber head that her daugh
ter's education could not lie completed
without visiting Paris aud Home, and so
they left England six months ago, and
Miss Rayne has not been the same crea
ture without them."
"I wonder she did not go, too."
"How could she? She has ber estate
to look after," rejoined the captain quick
ly. "She could leave It safely in your hands,
surely T'
"Not entirely. You don't know how
completely she associates herself w ith the
management of affairs. She is her own
bailiff and steward, and tl was going to
add) farrier, but she really knows more
about doctoring the stock than the village j
veterinary. She gave a ball to a horse
this morning that the grooms dared not
approach."
"I don't like to see a woman do such
unfemlnine things," said Vernon semen
tiously. "Don't you?" replied Captain Philip, in
his dry way, "at any rate, Mount Eden
would get on very badly without Mihs
Rayne."
CHAPTER XII.
Meanwhile Evelyn the same Evelyn
we hsve known, and yet so unlike what
she was In her girlish days waa roam
ing about the big house, restless and ei
cited, in anticipation of the promised meet,
lug with Agnes Featherstone. It wa not
an ordinary affection v.bich sbe felt for
this yoing girl. One could see that by
the trembling eagerness with which she
changed her dress in anticipation of the
arrival of her friend; by the nervous fin
gers that arranged and rearranged the
ornaments about her sitting room, and
the repeated journeys she made backward
and forward to the window to see if there
were any signs of Agues' approach.
By the time that the carriage wheels
from Featherstone Hall stopped before
the portico, her cheeka were burning, and
her eyes beaming with excitement and
suspense. Agnes did not wait to be aa
nounced, but leaping from the carriage,
ran straight to the morning room, whrre
she knew that she would tind her friend.
As soon as the young women met, they
flew into each other's arms, arid for a
few minute nothing was to be heard but
the aound of their repeated kissing, and a
few low sobs of pleasure from Agnes Fea
therstone. They separated at last, but it
waa only to fly together again with an
other series of embraces; and then Eve
lyn drew Agnus gently toward a sofa, and
sat down beside her with ber arm about
her waist. The tears were standing on
both their faces as they turned to look at
one another.
"And so, my darling, I have got yon
back again at last?" said Evelyn. "Ob,
Agnes, this separation has been a weary
one for me. While you have been danc
ing, and flirting, and going to operas and
concerts, yon naughty puss, I have been
hungering and thirsting for the sight of
your face and the sound of your voice.
I did not realise bow very necessary yon
were to my happiness tuitil wt parted,
Agnes."
The younger girl looked troubled, and
a little perplexed.
"And do you suppose I have not felt
It also, Evelyn T There has not been a
day that I didn't want you, dear. My
pleasures would have been doubled bad
you been there to share them with me.
As it waa, there always seemed something
wanting in everything to me. Mamma
said at last that she was quite sick of
hearing me say so." ,
"I'm afraid Mrs. Featherstone moat
have thought you didn't appreciate all the
trouble sbe waa taking oa your account
But sbe doesn't know, even after all thia
time, bow much we love each other, dar
ling. When will you come aad stay with
me. Agnes? Why not remaia at Mount
Edea now you arc aera? Mrs. feather
stone will be too busy settling herself to
rights to miss you for the nett few days."
Agnes' face palpably fell at the propa
attiaa, which la farmer days sbe would
hara gladly acceded to.
"Oh, Kvelya, dear, I cannot possibly re
maia with east at Was. la
Mamma conlft not spare me, because bv
isntM we are not quite alone. Papa baa
some friends at the Hall," nhesaid lamely.
"Guests alresd ! and you only arrived
last nifc'ht! What a nuisance for your
ui uoma. I low in that. Ague"?"
They-at least 1 mean he-there is
only one gentleman crowd with us from
('alaih." stammered Agnes.
"Some acquaintance you made abroad,
I suppose. Is he a foreigner?"
"No-that is. we did meet him abroad -la
Florence. I think-but be'n not a for
eigner, although be has lived for a long
time in France and Italy, and looks very
much like so Italian. And he sings, Eve
lyn oh, beautifully! and draws, and
paints, and plays the violin."
"How nii-e! And what is his name,
dear?"
"Mr. I.yle Jaer Lyle. Pupa says it's
a very good name, and he feels satisfied
he comes of a good family. But all his
people are dead. He is the last of his
race. Isn't it sad ?"
"He is like me, then, Agnes. I, too,
have no living relatives. Mr. Lyle and I
should have a fellow feeling." returned
Evelyn, smiling gravely. "Is he an old
man?"
"Oh, no, not at all! Al)ut thirty, I
think. But, Evelyn "
"Well, darling?"
"I hare something to tell you some
thing very serious and important, and
perhaps you will be angry with me be
cause I have not told it you before. Oh,
Evelyn, you will never lielieve it, but I
am engaged to be married to him, and I
do love him so."
(To be continued.)
JHcd at His Pom.
Mathleu Ioozelot Is still remembered
In Paris aa one of the most f.'iJthful and
courageous men w ho ever served a pa
per an a reporter. His lat assignment
and what came of It is told by Monsieur
Trltum lu the Petit Journal.
One day a riot w as apprehended, and
Donzelot waa sent to the Pantheon to
report the evenu In that quarter. Al
ready the stent's were fly!ug and the
lawless mob had begun to tear up the
streets and barricade them.
One of Donielot'a friends saw him as
be was running by, and said to him:
"What are you doing here? Rnn and
save yourself!"
Donzelot made no reply, and again
his friend urged blui to leave so dan
gerous a 8 pot.
"I am not going to move," he said;
"but as you are going, kindly take this
copy along with you to the paper; you
will save me time."
An hour passed, and the disorder waa
at Its height. The mob bad already be
gun to clash seriously with the authori
ties. Suddenly the Garde National
fired a Tollcy, and Doozelot fell, his
breast pierced by a bullet. A surgeon
rusned up to blm.
"You are hurt?" he acked.
"Yes." replied Donzelot, "seriously, I
thin.; I cannot use my pencil."
"Never mind your pencil," returned
the surgeon, sharply. "The question is
to Rave your life."
"Fion't be In a hurry," returned Don
zelot, quietly. "To each man his own
duty. Mine Is to get the story, and you
niuat help me. Hero, write at the foot
of this page this poetwript: '3:20 p. m.
At the fire of the troops three men
fell wounded, and one was killed.'"
"Why, which one la killed?" inked
the doctor.
"I am," replied the reporter; and ha
fell bark dead.
Sorting Hawed Timber.
The Story of a line Board" Is one of
the articles In the St. Nicholas. Mr.
W. S. Hurwood, who writes It, tells of
the growth of the tree, the felling of It
by lumbermen, Its passage to the mill,
and the cutting Into boards. Then he
says:
A system of rollers carries the sawed
lumber and the slab from the saws to
the distant end of the mill, where the
boards are trimmed and sorted. The
rollers are revolving cylinders of steel,
raised Just enough from the tables In
which they are set to keep the lumber
In motion. Standing at the end of the
roller-carriage, a blue-bloused work
man with bis sharp picaroon directs
the board In any direction be wishes,
the rough slabs being sent along ona
set of subordinate rollers to be shaved
up Into shingles or ripped Into kindling
for city consumption, while the boards
pass up a broad, Inclined table, whera
whizzing little saws trim them and saw
them Into the requisite lengths. In a
high rage Dear the top of the room a
workman operates a series of levers
like those In use In a railway switch
yard, directing the pieces of lumber as
they pass up the Incline. Tbe lumber
them tumbles down the other side of
the Incline, and Is ready for piling.
Fats and Food.
Fats, Including all palatable oils, ar
valuable aa foods, and under favorable
conditions may be digested and ab
sorbed In considerable quantities by a
healthy adult Yet It Is a popular sup
position that fat la unwholesome, and
lu many cases tbe eating of fat doea
cauaa discomfort
To lira naturally, everyone should
spend a part of tbe day In physical ex
ercise, preferably In the open air. Bx
arclaa la raqulalta for tbe digestion of
fat Lack Of exardsa Is one reason
why, la maay etaaa, fata disagree with
tho consumer.
Too dlgaatibUlty of differ sot fata
rary.
Buttor aad cod liver oil art la tna
f roat rank aa ragarda ease of digestion.
It la not easy to over-estimate the valu
of cod-ilvar oil aa a tonic for a child
born with aa lacUa&Uoa to ennsnaap-
Uoa, aa indicated by concha, Ui
or enrratnr of tho tptao. Tha ?ahM
of mod butter la tho aaaat
la not wlooiy aaoagh raaogalaad,
AsBbtgraosxa.
Taa, a enr cast mahing la front of
bm aad I dollbarately raa artr alas."
"Poor doggla."
"Way do yon any tbatr
"Bocaoao my aynpntaios art lwaa
wlta tho wsdar doH--OsOTiaal TtOM
SPRING STYLES HERE
THEY WERE SETTLED VERY
EARLY THIS YEAR.
Hxiices of Jacket Cnt that Do Away
with Outer Wraps in Fine Weather
Hie Yoked Ho.lk-e U Aualn a Most
Popular Garmeut.
Attire for Indoors ant Out.
New York correxpondence:
PlUNii myles are
Weil settled, which
i hey were earlier
than uual be
cause of two rea
sons. First be
cause women's
di.siaMe for mak
ing a show of
t h e ui s el vex on
Easter Sunday is
ey
' W rush Into ne'
i V' ft things Ix'fore tht
I day, for it woul
new
hat
ould
never do to wait
till after it; aDd.
secoud, the unusu
al abundance of
fine days early in
March, which hur
ried on the new
fci-asou.
As utiual. tbe Ignoring of wrap will
le notio-alile from now until the days
are warm enough to make them unde
sirable. Your well-dressed woman
may have liought herself a lovely
spring Jacket or a lieautiful spring
cape, but ten to one she means to wear
neither when the weather Is fair.
There's not enough about these gar
ments that is new to warrant their bid-
iilllKK I'KO.M SI'KI.MJ'S SHOW PARADE.
lug bodices that are In t!i latest,
mode. True, koiiw of the new Ixidicew '
are ilNtltu-tly of jiieket cm, and with!
th'"' the hugge.stlon of pulmonary dan-j
ers Is not so strong, but more stand'
for outright unprou-ct'on. Of the less
strikingly exposed ort the flrst picture
gives a good example. Its Jacket ex
tended! six UuJit below the belt, lta
brctelles, stock collar and rolling collar
facing were plaid silk In warm thus,
and altogether there was a look of out
er Jacket warmth about It that really
wasn't there. Made of grayish blue
cloth. It wj! trimmed with black silk
b-nld, shown, two braid ornaments
1c!ng all the trimming of the accom
panying skirt.
Home of the pretenses of coy.lness are
downright fakes, but though jialpable
thee expedients are accepted by wom
en w ho do not want to wear an over
garment, and who yet object to look-
T HEY' HE FANCY BODICES,
Ing too housegowsy for tho street. Ad
justable revers and collars arc con
structed to take away the unbroken
lines of the figure and giro a protected
look. With how little that U wrap-like
tbU appearance can be accomplished,
the first picture In the group of full
length figures show. This gown waa
a beautiful light-weight broadcloth in
a delicate light gray, and the brotellea
aud collar were white cloth, gray satin
ribbon giving tbe trimming.
Ko far as warmth goea, thia waa not
different from'the ono across tha pic
ture from It. Hut the other was frank
ly unproec4Jve, and la fairly to bo as
signed to another classification. It
was dove-colored cloth a slmplo ruffla
upon tbe skirt of gathered groan taffe
ta, and a round bodice that waa plain
ness Itself In all but Ita yoke. Thia was
of tucked taffeta edged with a waador
tng ruffla. This dress la a typa. la oth
r model the yoke'a edge may bo aoal
lopod or ilsaagfcd till It makes a
ywda of
frilling It takes to get around the bouav
dary of a pretty girls yoke. And M
may be. liniciid of tucked, crossed bj
row of baby ribbon or with narrow
frills of the same. Then, If tbe weares
doesn't think them too common, she
will add long ends to ber sash belt, bul
with any or all tbee modifications th
gown will be claed with this one.
Though so much of her rig ! "lo"!
dVuiur l!w.s, she will dun as nearly a
picture hat as current style allow, and
the loose silk liuiiig of ber skirt will
match the yoke, yet she w ill pretend to
beholders that the has on the slropiearl
frock of her wardrot.
If jacket there lie In the rig that Is t
bid for stranger's Inspection, then M
will tie of unconventional cut. Other
wise, the wearer will be set down as
either of delicate health, or as an ob
server rather than an exhibitor. Th
jacket shown In this sketch will draw
attention, however. It was of moda
whipcord, tbe skirt to match, tbe fold
on rovers and skirt being white cloth.
Having had your dress made with
swagger Jacket, you will, as a mattes
of course, be contemptuous of those
who appear on the street unwrapped.
With irade weeka over, Indool
style will receive their due share of
women's attention, and that la a larg
share. Is the opinion of dressmaker
who have been doing a great deal of
schen Nig over dressy bodices. No won,
der tht yoke bodice Is popular. Th
fashion tabooed not so many year
ago Is coming back, and we are won
dering w hy we ever dlncarde-d anythtaj
so attractive. The heavy part of thl
bodice is cut out in the ne k, the out
er material coming to the throat. II
Is the notion to use a coarse grenadlns
over allk, and to lay a thin net nndoi
the grenadine where the flesh showa
Then yoked bodices without thia sofJ
of trlckluMM are abundant, and manj
of them are very dressy. One Is showi
here that was maile of shot pale gxeei
and pink silk, gathered to a pretty yokl
of pink silk. The shot silk was draws
Into a belt of open-work black Jet Laid
over black satin. This galloon border
ed the yoke, trimmed the pink sleeves
and edged the collar. There Is aa muck
variety In the shape and constructloi
of these jokes as there usually Is In i
thoroughly fashionable dres acceav
sory, an1 from different kinds of yoke
the Idea passe to separate collars thai
give yoke effect. A yery rich model ol
this fort Is shown, the collar beinj
Rena's;inee guipure over a black vet
vet 1kh1! with tucked black silk Teat
The next model of this pictured quar
tet shows how much of the erstwhll
"fancy" liodlce there Is In the current
"dressy" bodice. This garment If
quite as elaborate as anything produc-
BUT CALL 'EM DRES8Y.
ed In the days when dress-makers were
vying with each other In making elab
orate walats. It bad gray taffeta 11a
tng, over this cream lace was drawn
smoothly, and over this waa a bUUcs
work of geranium telve on which
were put some utterly Inconsequential
steel buttons. Belt and basque taha
were the same Telvet a lace frill at tha1
ids hid the ooenlns!. and a hn.. tw-
dreased the throat Kleeves of uW
grsy sua matched the skirt. Even
cloth gets a thorough dressing ut W
new bodices, aa tha loot of thia row
shown. Here waa a coat-shaped bodice
of admiral blue granite cloth, u
basque, fronts and triple epaulettes
bUrk TlTrt- Attached to
tho fraoaj were upright revers faced
with white satin, satin also atsaeaxhw
la tha Medici collar. Vest aidsMok
collar were whlu lace, llaed wttk waM
Ok.
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