]a romance] Wilden. CHAPTER VII. One the following morning, ns Shell In ratefully folding In tissue-paper the superfluous tea-spoons brought Into nee on the previous evening, Ruby once more buiwtfc In upon her solitude, "I have brought over one of Meg’* dreneeii ■* a guide; and I think this merino ought to make up prettily,” she *aye, unfolding a parcel which «he carries, and dieplaying with Borne triumph a tiny cotton frock and a piece of acme light blue material. Shell pauaea In the act of rubbing an imaginary apot from one of the apoona •nd atarea at the articles produced with wondering eyes. “What are you talking about?" ahe aaka. with bewildered atrcea on the word "are." "Why, I am going to make a dress for poor little Meg," explains Ruby In ft rather impatient aud Injured tone. •'You must have noticed how badly the poor child's things fit her?” Shall turn* perfectly crlmaon. “You can’t mean what you aay, nuby?” aha erlea In a voice of horror. “You have surely not been offering to make clothes for Robert Champley’s cblldron?" “Why not?” demands Ruby, with a faint flush. “I consider It only a com mon act of charity to help the poor man when he la In such dire need of help." “Oh, then, he asked you to nee about It?" queries Shell, looking relieved. .“Well, not exactly. We were talk ing about the children, and I remark ed that the nurse seemed to have no Idea how to dress them properly. Of course ha objected to my taking any trouble In the matter, but 1 could «eo that he was dlstresned by what I told him. 80 this morning I went over and caught the nurae Just about to cut out another monstrosity, so I Just marched off her stuff, and one of Meg a dresser for a pattern." "V. asn’t the nurse a trifle sur prised?" asks Shell, In dry aarcastlc tone. “She did seem a little put out," ad mits Ruby, with a quick flush. "I shall warn Robert Champley against that woman. I think he must be mis taken In her—she has most shocking manners." vo you sol up ns Doing a juage oi manners?" asks Shell, still sneering. “I set up for knowing when people are rude and disagreeable," answers Ruby shortly. Shell, having carefully disposed of her last spoon, Is turnlngly silently from the room, when Ruby calls her hark. "Where are you going?" she asks crossly. "I am going to ldck up the silver,” replies Shell, without retracing her ateps. "When you have done that I wish you would help mo to cut out Meg’s dress—you are so much more used td that kind of thing than I am,” ttuys Ruby, gazing despondently at the little dress, which she has been turning In side out to see how it Is fashioned. “I am really very sorry," answers fihcll coldly; "but I can't possibly help you. I never cut out a child's dress in my life." "Nonsense—don’t be so cross—you must do It for me!" cries Ruby, be ginning to look alarmed. "Of course I quite reckoned on you, or I should never have undertaken such a task." "I am very sorry." repeats Shell, In a hard, unfeeling voice; “but I don’t la the least understand children's things. I should advise you to send for patterns or put It out—you will got no help from me." And then she hurrlro from the room, nearly upset ting Violet, whom she meets In the passage. ’’Would you believe it, VI?—that wretch of a Shell has turned sulky," grumbles Ruby, as her cousin enters the room. "She vows she won’t help ine with Meg's dress, or even cut It out. Isn’t It disagreeable of her?" “What on earth will you do? 1 know you can't manage It yourself," laughs Violet —Instead of sympathls tog she seems only amused at her cousin's dilemma. "I am sure I don’t know. T>o you think you could cut mm out?" asks Ruby hopelessly. Violet turns the little dm* all round about, then holds It out at arm's length by both sleeves. "Not If hanging were the alterna tive." she laughs; "It Is quite beyond at" Hut tor Ruby It Is no laughing mat ter - tears of mortification and v*»a tlon force themselves Into her eyes. "Hah I I ain't take It to heart," crlee Violet lightly "well send tor some patterns, and then make an os tentatious show of cuttlug It out In ItheH's presence Mhe won't lie sble go withstand tbst, I know, for she halve to see guod stuff wasted " And Violet's ru*e proves successful IV when, a tow days later, having obtained son* patterns from l.oudou. Huby deliberately bra ns to strange them the wrong way of the stuff Htaell Iwpatleaily comes to Ike res. ue, and. having ears taken po««Meloa of the grlnmtm wields them ta the end Having *w* nut the dress, she ».«*n d* tides to make It sh < Is n good work woman, and never m/wr* has soak a dainty, enticing bit of work come In her way. She feels perfectly wife in her undertaking. Huhy la scarcely likely to blazon forth her own Incom petence. One afternoon, n* she sit* at the open window smiling over her work, Robert Champley cornea sauntering thoughtfully tip the short avenue of the Wilderness Huddenly Bheil, all unconscious of his close proximity, breaks Into eong, it Is a bright, cheery little ditty that bursts from her Ups, and her unseen listener pauses amidst the shrubs and walls for the end. Inning Idly against a strong young lilac, he not only listens to the words with an amused smile, but watches the busy needle flashing In and out of her work. She makes a vivid picture seen between the breaks of greenery, with her brilliant hair, snow-white skin, and the patat la for oo, dear Sell!" "Dear Hell" looks anything but de lighted at the Information, "Nonsense, Meg—you have made a mistake!” she says, so coldly that Meg begins to pout her under lip prepara tory to a cry. "Me haven’t!" she says stoutly. Dat Is tor oo—pa said so.” Hearing that her parcel la of no In trinsic value, HIihII condescends to open It. Having done ao. a handsome ly bound copy of Tennyson's poems lies exposed to view. (To be Continued.) MEN ARE NOT THC MOTIVE. Wiimen !»<• Nut Don Tlielr I'rettlett ' (Truck* tu Win Masculine H in lie*. There In a fallacy—confined, though, to the masculine half of society—and that U that women drees for men. Of comae all women know better than I that and laugh at It In their sleevea aa the moat ridiculous of Ideas. Most of them would like, though, to let men go on thinking an, but 1 don't rare, so I'»n going to tell, says a woman In the St. Louis Globe-Democrat. 1 think any creature who belongs to such a stupid sex ought not to be allowed—-If there Is any way of enlightening him—to go on thinking that any woman would throw away Unto and material to dress fur him. I*t me tell you. please, what I heard once. It was this' v woman of tuy acquaintance was clothed In a new and most beautiful dinner suit, which had cost hundreds of dollars, ■’ho wore It (or the first time with an ulr of a queen ah, me. who couldn't have worn It so? and looked ss If Its had Just stepped down out of the latest Tarlatan fashion sheet A man looked at her a man who had teethed an ags when he ought to have had dis cretion sad who was still uot In hit dotaat -looked at her and aald: Thais your last winter s suit, Is It not* t don't think I need to tall you j noire but I will, tnother human adult uf the same mi told me once that M j sown w«e vert t-« tutiful It waa s' [ tun cent lawn that I n.»*«lf had mads i do, uf course, all women save up thali j beat riot ben f t people who cn»j ap I pre« .ate t k* no an I those people are uo( ■tea, " 111 - .■ Why isn't « wedding Is the drawing | hvs s parlor taaUkt Shell ESEiii Wilden. CHAPTER VIII. (Continued.I Hhell flushes crimson; lh« one wish of her girlhood has been to possess a i volume of Tennyson all her own. Vet, now that she atanda with the treasure In her hand, a atrange perversity makes her feel more than half Inclined to throat It hark upon the donor. “It la very kind of you, Bob and Meg,” ahe naya, In a tone of angry Im patience; "but I cannot think of ac cepting your preaent. Take It home and keep It until you are grown up - then you will he able to underatand It!" "Don’t you like It, then?” queries Hob, looking anxloua und dial reward. ”l*a thought you would ruther have a book; but I'll tell him to Mend you a watch Inatead.” Thla threatened alternative sounds ao very alarming that Bhell hastens to explain to the children her detestation of watcliea In general and her un bounded admiration of poet*. “What are you making such a chat ter and fuww about, Bhell?" Interposes Hu by, croaalng to her alater’a aide and taking up the volume In dlapute. "Oh, only u copy of Tennyson!’' with a con temptuoua curl of her Up at the plain though handaome binding. "I wonder what. Induced Robert (’hampley to gend you that? You have not been devot ing youraelf to hla children.” “No, I ehould hope not,” anawera Shell, with emphaala. “Neither do I want any preaent I ahall return It." "Return It? What conceited non aenae!” ncnffa Ruby, "I attppoae he thought aome alight acknowledgment waa due to you for playing with the children occasionally. If you want to make yourcelf ubaurd and conaplcuoua, of eiMirae you will return It.” On the next morning the ('hampley houaehold take their departure for the moor. Ruby cbancea to be near the deaerted lodge of the Wilderneaa when the wagonette containing the two brothera, the children and the nurae drlvea by. Hhe make* a dainty picture, stand ing In the shade of the cheafnut tree In her pale-blue morning dress, and waving her handkerchief in token of adieu. The gentlemen raise their hats and smile, the children shout, the nurse gives a defiant snort, and the next moment they are out of sight. "Two months of freedom!” thinks Robert ('hampley to himself. "On my return home I must make other ar ia ngoments." CHAPTER IX. "Mamma, then* Ih h most enticing cottage to be let at Oakford," crlea Huby, glancing up excitedly from the paper In her bund. "Listen! ‘Oakford. To he let, furnished, charming cottage reeldence—five rooms, large garden, every convenience, rent moderate, air bracing, close to moor.' ” "Yea, my dear,” responds Mrs. Wil der! In mild aurprUe. “Well, what about It? Do you know of any one wanting a cottage?” "I thought it might ault us,” replies Iluby, u little crestfallen. "It certainly might If we wanted to go there,” asserts Mrs. Wllden with a good-tempered laugh; "but, as you know, Huby, I have a great dislike to • caving home.” "But, mamma, I think you require change of air," persists Ruby with un wonted affection. "You have been Buf fering so frightfully from neuralgia all spring. 1 am sure your nerves want bracing. Why not take this cottage for a month or mo? Change la good for everybody." Mra Wllden shaken her head, but not after a very determined fashion. “What do you say, VI?" she asks, turning to her niece. “Well. 1 really don't think I care two straws either way,” answers Mine Flower laxily. "If somebody will pack my things I am willing to go, but I couldn't undertake to pack them my self.” "Now that Juirt shows how much you need change," cries Huby eagerly. "Your whole system wants stirring up before we had been a week ou the moor you would be as brisk as a bee." Should I?” suys Violet, with a dubious laugh. ”1 very much doubt it; hut | atu willing to try the experi ment." Truth to tell, If Violet Flower con sulted her own feelings, she would far rather retuuiu In her present comfort able quarters, hut Ituby having con tided to hei a scheme for vpo'ng the moor if possible, she has ionised not to oppose the plan. There Is a fair amount of resistance on Mrs Wllden * part, but her euer geitr daughter overrules encli and every obstacle ae It la preaenled to her. Her eloquence le eo great lit advocat tit it a change that one would wonder, to hear her talk, how they have mau aged to exist so many summer* through al the Wilderness without ae q. tiling all the uial.td.i-i to which It "ill hi heir shell la not present when the die elusion takes pla<< h Ioi Indiana lion when the plan le unfolded to her la unhoundetf "You don't mean to eay, Ituby, that ton are actually thiakiag of following iha chantpleya to the moor?" she way* In a voice of Milch Infinite acorn that Kilby flushes uneasily, "What nonsense you talk, Shell!" aha returns angrily. "You Haem to have the rhampleys on the brain. We are going to the moor because mamma In In need of bracing air. !• there any thing 00 very extraordinary In that?" "There In something extraordinary In your having delected the name vil lage,” answer* Shell decidedly. "If mutnnia wants bracing air why not tuke her to the North of Devon?" "llecaiiHe room* there would bo frightfully expensive; whereas the cot tage on the moor Ih a mere trifle," re sponds Kuby loftily. This argument In unanswerable, for 'no one knows better titan Shell that their Income la not er|iial to any great additional strain. Feeling that any resistance Mho can offer will be futile, Shell shrugs her shoulders and leaves the room. Nothing remains to her now but to strike out a separate line of action for herself. She Is fully de termined about one thing wild horses ahall not drag her to Oakford, When everything In fully arranged and pecking Is at Its height, Shell startles the household, "it will be very awkard having only three bed-rooms," VI remarks In a grumbling tone, for the more she con templates ulx wrekti spent away from civilization the less she likes the pros pect. "Of course the servants must have one; and then we must all cram Into the two others.” "Not at all, dear," Ruby hastens to explain. "Mammu and Shell can have the big room, and you and I a little one each; as for Mary, she can do (julte well with a chair-bedstead In the kitchen." "How delightful for Mary!" laughs Shell, "It Is to be hoped she has a strong liking for cockroaches and crickets." "Now, please, Shell, don’t go setting Mary against the arrangement,” says Kilby Imploringly, "Mamma, do ask her not?" • ton t dp alarmed, answer* Shell, with a curious little laugh. "I have not the slightest Intention of Interfer rlng with any of the arrangements at the cottage. They don't concern me In the least, alnee I sha n't be there.” "Not be there what do you mean? Of course you will he there!” declare* Kilby, looking very much astonished, "Not unless mamma Insists upon It; and I am sure she won't,” laughs •Shell. “Ah you know, J have been set. against the Idea from the commence ment, so I mean to remain here ‘monarch of all I survey' and have a right down Jolly time of It all to myself.” "What rubbish!” cries Kilby Impa tiently. "Susan la going to be put on board-wages; and she Is to give the house a thorough cleaning during our absence,” "Well, I can be put on board-w'ages too; and I certainly won't prevent Susan from (leaning the house. I shaft be out ull day long,” responds Shell. “Mamma, please make her go. It would seem so odd her not going," urge* Ituby. But Mrs. Wllden i« too easy-going to oppose actively any of her children. Truth to tell, she rather envies Shell her coming solitude, and even ex presses It as her opinion that It Is a pity that dreadful cottage was ever taken. This rebellion on her Indulgent mother's part Is quickly talked down by Ruby, whose constant fear from the beginning has been that her scheme will ultimately fall through. She knows that her mother would rather stay at home; she is fully aware that Violet is groaning In spirit over what she Is pleased to term her “com ing exile;” so she thinks ft wiser ou the whole to leave Shell to her own devices, lest enlarging on the theme should stir up revolt In other and more important quarters. Then (here comes n triumphant morning when, hacked up by a vast amount of unnecessary luggage, Ituby carries off her three victims for Mary can truthfully be reckoned In that cate gory to eujoy the bracing air and scant accommodation of Oukinoor. Shell, as she stands on the doorstep and waves them a smiling adieu, looks the Impsrsouatlou of mischievous con tentment. “Be sure to cha.igc the library hooks the moment you get them, and don't delay * single post In sending them off,'1 entreats Violet earnestly. ' And ull) groceries we can't get there you must send hy 1‘urceU I’o-i," adds Huh). 'How the Oakmoor postman will hies# you!” laughs Shell as she nod* assent; and then, springing on to the step of the tali, she Imprints a doacti hasty klsse* on her mother's tumbled i heek. Why dues she hear* a sigh not withstanding the Urlghiuw** ot the morning as she turns to re-enter the house* t'llAII Kit X A Week has passed Nhelt has grows ; tired of het self Imposed unlit n ha ace of | interruption to her lonely musing*, nl fli-Bt 80 delightful, now seems to All her usually cheerful spirit with a sense of depression. Until robbed of all com panionship she never guessed what a sociable creature she was. Happy would she be If even the most Inane and common-place caller would come to break the monotony of her endless days! Hut It Is understood In the neighborhood that the family at the Wilderness are away; bo from mom till night Shell wanders aimlessly ^ about, with only the gray cat to bear her company. It Is evening. Shell Is even more desolate than her wont, Susan has asked permission to go Into Mudford to make a few purchases, and already she hart been absent over three hours. It Is now seven o'clock, and the empty house seems to Shell’s excited Imagi nation like a haunted place. She fancies she hears hurrying through the passages. A door slams, and her heart stands still with fear. Shell however Is not one to give wsy to morbid feel ings, and, rousing herself from her book, she starts on a tour of Inspec tion through the house, shutting all wlndowa and securely barring alt doors on her way; then, with a re newed sense of security, she returns to the drawing-room and determines to while away the time with music, Shell Is one of those sensitive folk who never play so well us when alone • she cannot pour her whole heart into her music when she has listeners. Now, with the house to herself, she soon becomes lost to her surroundings, the room echoes to such hoart •Ujfelng atralns ns It rarely falls to dVs lot to hear. Suddenly however her music comes to an end, and her heart throbs with terror, for through the empty hsll echoes the sonorous thunder of the big Iron knocker. Shell's first impulse is to take no notice- to hide herself or to make her escape by some back window; then ^ her natural good sense returns, and she laughs In a nervoiw manner at her fears and with fast-beating heart ad vances Into the hall, "Is that you, Susan?” she asks, but without unfastening the heavy chain. There comes no answer save a vlg orous ring at the bell. “Who Is there?” demands Shell, this time In a firmer tone and one more likely to penetrate the thick oak panels. "A messenger from Mrs. Wllden,” answers u voice which Is somehow familiar to Hhell's ears. With trembling hands she shoots back the heavy bolts, and. taking down the chain, opens the door. There she stand* pale, big-eyed, and scared looking, before Robert Champley. "Oh, what a fright you gave me!” Is her first Involuntary exclamation. "A fright! Mow so? What have I done?” queries her visitor, looking much surprised. "Oh, nothing!” answers Shell, whilst the ghost of a smile flickers round her still colorless lips. "It was my own foolishness; but I was not expecting any one excepting .Susan, and your knock frightened me. I * suppose I must be getting nervous"- with a self depreciating little laugh. "Nervous? I should think so!” cries Robert wonderlngiy. He has taken her hand in greeting, and feels It cold and trembling In his warm grasp. "Hut surely you arc not alone In the house?" "Only for a short time; I am expect ing Busan back every minute,” ex plains Hhell, who feels heartily ushamed of her late weakness. Her visitor looks grave. "You ought not to be left alone in a house like this,” he *ays very de cidedly. "Why, you are trembling still!" His words remind Shell that he still has possession of her hand—with a little impatient movement she with draws it. (To be Continued.) INDIANS AS RUNNERS. lonUarm of Ttislr Keiunrkalile Puvtri of Kndurance. General Cook I* quoted by Btlward 8. Rills us having seen an Apache lope for 1,500 feet up the side of a mountain without showing the first signs of fa tlgue, there being no perceptible sign of Increase of respiration Captain H. L. Scott, of the Seventh Cavalry, has related some astonishing feats per formed by the Chirucahua Apaches forming Troop 1. of lit* regiment. Ho tella how nine of these Indinns, after u hard day's work, by way of recrea tion pursued a coyote for two hours, raptured the nimble brute ami brought It Into camp; how, on another occasion, the scouts gave chase to a deer, ran It down some nine miles from camp and fetched it In alive. Hence I see no good reason for doubting the word of an old-timer I met In tba Rocky moun tains, who told me that. In the days before the Atlantic and I'actDc rail road was built, the (Mum Indians of Arltona would recover settler.-*' stray horses, along the overland trail, by walking them down in the course of two or three days. After this one uiav begin to ludleve that "l-ylug Jim” Heckwuurth. whose remarkable adven tures early In this century are pre served In taiok form, waa a much-ma ligned man and that he spoke no utora than the truth when he said he had known Instance* of Indian runuera ac coinplUhlug upward of lit) miles In ouo day l.tpplmott'a Magaslne. Me tea*** Iks I sit*. Wife (with a determined air) "I waul to *ee thai teller.” Husband ' W.iat lelier*" Wife "The <>na yuu )u*i opened I know by the hand writ ■ tug It Is front a woman, and you turn ed pale when you resd II I will sea II' Give H tu me. air!” Husband - "Here it is. H s your uiiiliusr s bill.” Til-UK*.