THt CIRCULAR STAIRCASE &}. MARY O ^ ROBERTS ♦ RIME HART sv<«omt _ • M - rat... . ,»*te r_Tr:twr fMte. .«rtr. as * AeJtU -s star tall I* fr-HBad fa B fit. Bad* *d A— >4 Arc. rt«te al Iia uar.tr fatter .»» d tte -w-ry ‘ -a- Mm Intea fttute Hai r. • rasjvtt -■ .»•* t*»t tea Bte n«wrf fa J c f.. tv an arttooe ate tad *»-• - * m "-a Buart raa a ft-* tea ten ttp BfM. »Jr u urdry J wraa taftd *a tea 'far atrr aaa Wdtac rvikw f* * tte- Hr J*4r~—-ard u Salf~.*drr >r. «* r* Jt* r-. ■; T*b f t -Ttt r*r 4 -«% te tmvmtsn • - -*• f* ' fir— * | ' - 0 * » kUfr * «—d» a pr- - *4 fe ' teftwM! iwtur » ' -r * A - i - # i1 : - —1* 4 ■ - s. *» MU ' - **te< — * 'ak'f T - * »*d •MIL * **.»’ » * * te te. «' * . . te,- ♦ «te .fc ter. a." * rfy. B ?-*•+*. » ».« •_*»., - *T!'«r< * V ■ • Sate ' - ' C' -• r «*» "-a. -te" * ' * ** +r*Kf _ . w _ * *fdk - «r t* m* » ate-yw— m - Jir a&e w«ji 1 •“ tr ■ <■£ ttte tdiir-J^ C^4P^£P X —-Co*n.-^el *1 kox. you bettah rim i* Mie' !ia-» ' h* ud li u cautiously It - sut k 1 4 -Eao «hat to do. and [ it • boa* to non* net omar time er j [ farther :i- Tkr*-» th- coar ofel the* aad I • ei'jec r.*»d* Halsey cine* b* hind la the soft as* mom the old negro tamed » th *on? dignity to Halsey Too bettah *H doom, sat be **« It » a iaocr for a • gman sat.' Things • er* not turn.sc out the • t Hmrt »ty*r*4 He sat dova on *be easier table »:*t his hand* thru* a Lis (orkeu and » ate ted me a* J 'i*.. «ed Thomas up the car mo stair* At the top a wcisaas «» srand.hc and a nnod nn* shoved a** ■'* »a* Rosie She *hrack hack a twite, bet 1 said noetic* And thee Thames wwotmed to a partly opes dour and 1 vest x. Tie- h«cce t«caa*t»d of three bed mom* upstair*, ail cnsclortably fur nished la this one the iarc«**t aad art -st a c.zst .amp- n* barn.ex aad t>y its ct; I cenud make oat a plate • kite metal b-d A ftrl «as asleep there—or t a half atspor. lor she nett* red soe'Lt; nn» at! the* Xos»- Cat take* her rootage .* her *-aad* and reat-ag :* had fumed up 'he heat U *as oaty the* that I **-u F-ver fushed. ill as she *i< *— >«i-ief luoaise Arscstmtg I st ood Car rax do** at her * a st upur of uaotaett Logo* here, t c w at the lodge. in and alone' Rosie ace to the bed and smoothed th- »t t» const erpac* “I as. afra.-c she is *or*e toctet* *ho *e*: jed at last ! put my ha til o the sark Ctrl's forehemd It was bvmag v*th feeer. and I tamed to • here Thomas ; rapeted »* the hall ny * J! joe tel! me shat joa mean. T’ sr ai lotasat Sy ant tell lag me ■* b**ore* 1 d-mazided :tsd:cxact!y. Tbeaca* Quailed. all* (Okidil let me. be -a 4 came*-' i wanted to Sbe rcacht • i a bad a doctor tbe night sbe cam* but tbr woetdn bear to it Is i sbe very bod Mis' Inne*^" Had ~t • -art. 3 said coldly - Send Mr hi- - ap' Haist* came up tbe suits sicsrly. looking ratter interested and .mimed to b>- —r ■ rd Fee a tLoofsi be c-oak! not aee ax'thru* distinctly rn tbe dark-nec room be stopped, gianced at Rosie and at me and then his eyes !e3 on tbe restless bead on tbe ptl 100 I think be felt who it aas before be realty saw ber be crowed tbe rad net go far He sat o* the top step of tbe stairs only leaving to telephone for a doctor and getting in everybody • way ta bis eagerness to fetch and carry 1 got him away final ly. by sending aim to hi up tbe car as a sort of am balance :s case the aBoo tbe sick girl to be He went Gertrude down to tbe lodge loaded wttb nil manner of 101 of towels and a bos of and as tbe taro girls perceptibly I fro® Englewood— . Dr Walker, be for Suaayaide. to stop trying tBsejf j uad a long talk with the aid man. and this is what I learned Om Saturday evening before, about n •clock, be had been reading in ■ if sitting room downstairs, when some one rapped at the door The old man was alone. Warner not having strived. and at first be was uncertain about opening the door He did so finally, and was amazed at being con ’•"tted by Louise Armstrong. Thomas •as an old family servant, having been »itfa the present Mrs Armstrong since she was a child, and he was overwhelmed at seeing Louise. He saw that she was excited and tired, and he drew her into the sitting room and made her sit down. After a while he went to the house and brought Mrs Watson and they talked until late The old man said Louise was in trouble, and seemed frightened. Mrs. Watson made some tea and took it to the lodge, but Louise made them both promise to keep her presence a secret, see had not known that Sunnyside • as rented, and whatever her trouble was. this complicated things. She «*-*-jjjed puzzled Her stepfather and Mr mother were still in California— that w as all she would say about them Why she had run away no one could mag:ne Mr Arnold Armstrong ■ as at li e Greenwood club and at last Thomas not know ing what else to do. «• lit over there along the path It • as almost m:du ght Cart »ay over b*- met Armstrong himself and brought him to the lodg* Mrs Wat son had gone to the house for some bad hnan it having been arranged that under the circumstances Louise would be better at the lodge until blankets and pillows, and Gertrude was opening and airing Louise's own rooms at the house. Her private sit ting room, bedroom and dressing room were as they had been when we came. They occupied the end of -the eastI wing, beyond the circular staircase, and we had not even opened them. The girl herself was too 111 to notice what was being done. When, with the help of the doctor, who was a fa therly man with a family of girls at home, we got her to the house and up the stairs into bed. she dropped into a feverish sleep, which lasted until morning Dr. Stewart—that was the Englewood doctor—stayed almost all night, giving the medicine himself, and watching her closely. Afterward he told me that she had had a narrow escape from penumonia. and that the cerebral symptoms had been rather alarming I said I was glad it wasn't an “itis" of some kind, anyhow, and he smiled solemnly. He left after breakfast, saying that he thought the worst of the danger was over, and that she must be kept very quiet. "The shock of two deaths. 1 sup pose, has done this." he remarked, picking up his case. "It has been very deplorable." I hastened to set him right. "She docs not know of either, doc- 1 tor." I said. "Please do not mention them to her " He looked as surprised as a medical man ever does "1 do not know- the family," he said, preparing to get into his top buggy, j "Young Walker, down in Casanova. Amued av Being Confronted by Louise Armstrong. room iag Arnold Armstrong and • Louise had a long conference, during which be was beard to storm and be come very violent When he left It was after two He had gone up to the house—Thomas did not know why —and at three o'clock he was shot at the foot of the circular staircase. The follow ing morning Louise had f t>een til She had asked for Arnold. ■ and was told he had left town Ti omas had not the moral courage to tell her of the crime She refused a doctor, and shrank morbidly from hav :ng her presence known. Mrs. Wat son and Thomas had had their hands full, and at last Rosie had been en listed to help them She carried nec essary provisions — little enough — to the lodge, and helped to keep the secret Thomas told me quite frankly that he had been anxious to keep Louise s presence hidden for this reason: They had all seen Arnold Armstrong that night, and he. himself, for one. was known to l»e- had no very friendly feeling feu- the dead man As to the reason for Louises flight from Cali fornia. or why she had not gone to the Fttthughs. or to some of her peo- : pie in town, be had no more informa- I tion that I had With the death of < her stepfather and the prospect of, the immediate return of the family. | things had become more and more 1 impossible 1 gathered that Thomas was as relieved as I at the turn events had taken Xo. she did not know of either of the deaths in the family Tnken all around. I had only substi- ! tuted one mystery for another If 1 knew now why Rosie had taken the basket of dishes. I did not know- who had spoken to her and followed her ! along the dnve If 1 knew that Louise was ia the lodge, 1 did not know why ; soe was there If 1 knew that Arnold t- mstrong had spent some time in the •odge the night before he was mur- | Acred. 1 was ao nearer the solution of ' the crime Who was the midnight in truder who had so alarmed Liddy and myself* Who had fallen down the clothe* chute? Was Gertrude's lover a villain or a victim? Time was to answer all these things CHAPTER XIII. Louiaw. The doctor from Englewood cam* very soon, and I went up to see the sick girl with him. Halsey had gone to supervise the fitting of the car with has been attending them 1 under stand he is going to marry this young lady ." ' You have been misinformed." 1 said stiffly "Miss Armstrong is go ing to marry my nephew"' The doctor smiled as he picked up the reins "Young ladies are changeable these days," he said "We thought the wed ding was to occur soon. Well. I will stop in this afternoon to see how my patient is getting along " Some time about noon of that day Wednesday. Mrs Ogden Fiuhugh tele phoned me I have the barest ac Quaintance with her—she managed to be put on the governing board of the Old Ladies" home and ruins their di gestlon by sending them ice cream and cake on every holiday Beyond that, and her reputation at bridge, which is insufferably bad—she is the worst player at the bridge club—1 know little of her. it was she who had taken charg- of Arnold Arm strong's funeral, however, and 1 went at once to the telephone. ' Yes." 1 said, “this is Miss Innes " "Miss Innes." she said volubly. “1 have just received a very strange tele gram from my cousin. Mrs. Arm strong. Her husband died yesterday in California and—wait, I will read you the message.” 1 knew what was coming, and I made up my mind at once. If Louise Armstrong had a good and sufficient reason for leaving her people and coming home, a reason, moreover, that kept her from going at once to Mrs. Ogden Fitghugh, and brought her to the lodge at Sunnyside instead, it was not my intention to betray her. Louise herself must notify her people I do not justify myself now. but re member. I was in a peculiar position toward the Armstrong family. I was connected most unpleasantly with a cold-blooded crime, and my niece and nephew were practically beggared, either directly or indirectly, through the head of the family Mrs. Fitzhugh had found the mas sage. “ "Paul died yesterday Heart dis ease.' " she read. " 'Wire at once if Louise is with you.' You see. Miss Innes. Louise must have started east, and Fanny is alarmed about her." “Yes." I said. “Louise is not here." Mrs. Fitzhugh went on. "and none of her friends— the few- who are still in town—have seen her. I called you because Sunny side was not rented when she went away, and Louise might have gone there." "1 am sorry. Mrs. Fitzhugh. but I cannot help you." I said, and was im mediately filled with compunction Suppose Louise grew worse? Who was l to play Providence in this case? The anxious mother certainly had a right to know that her daughter was in good hands. So 1 broke in on Mrs. Fitzhugh's voluble excuses for disturbing me. "Mrs. Fitzhugh." I said "1 was go ing to let you think 1 knew nothing about Louise Armstrong, but 1 have changed my mind. Louise is here, with me." There was a clatter of ejaculations at th$ other end of the wire. "She is ill. ®$d not able to be moved Moreover, she is unable to see any one. I wish you would wire her mother that she is with me. and tell " V** • a UC> uvt auvw why she came east.” "But my dear Miss InnosV Mrs Fitxhagh began. I cut in ruthlessly. “1 will send for you as soon as she can see you." I said. “No, she is not in a critical state now. but the doctor says she must have absolute quiet. When 1 bad hung up the receiver. I sat down to think. So I/>uise had Ced from her people in California, and had come east alone’ It occurred to me that Dr. Walker might be concerned in it. might possibly have bothered her with unwelcome attentions, but it seemed to me that Louise was hard iy a girl to take refuge in flight under such circumstances. She had always been high-spirited, with the well poised head and buoyant step of the outdoors girl. It must have been much more in keeping with Louise's char acter. as I knew it. to resent vigorous ly any unwelcome attentions from Dr. " alker It was the suitor whom I should have expected to see in head long flight, not the lady in the case The puule was no clearer at the end of the half hour. 1 picked up the morning papers, which were still full of the looting of the Traders' hank, the interest at fever height again, on account of Paul Armstrong's death The hank examiners were working on the books, and said nothing for publi cation; John Bailey had been released on bond The body of Paul Armstrong would arrive Sunday and would be buried from the Armstrong town house There were rumors that the dead man's estate had been a com paratively small one The last para graph was the Important one Walter P. Broadhurst of the Ma rine bank had produced J00 American Traction bonds, which had been placed as security with the Marine bank for a loan of $160,000. made to Paul Arm strong, just before his California trip The bonds were a part of the missing traction bonds from the Traders' hank! While this involved the late president of the wrecked bank, to my mind it by no means cleared its cashier 'TO BE CONTINUED * CLOTHES A BUSINESS ASSET —————— .>« Self-Supporting Woman Who Would Succeod Should Be Well Dressed. Any woman who has her way to make in the world, whether in social or business circles, must' recognise that dress is one of her chief assets, a writer in the Delineator says The efficiency of a saleswoman, a stenog rapher. a teacher—in fact of any worn an who works—is judged by her dress Shabbiness is almost always taken as a sign of ill-success and It la a popu lar If somewhat fallacious theory that real merit and ability always succeed Carelessness is quite as blighting to one's prospects as shabbiness. It may not be altogether Just or fair, but it is true that wherever you go your so cial position, your income, success or failure, your ability and character are appraised by the dothqs you wear. If 1 were starting la business—I don't care in what capacity—aad had only a very little money to invent. 1 would put it into dothee—cloth as that were suitable, attractive and weU made. It is what financier* call ~a good risk" an investment that Is almost certain to turn out well. I don't for n moment advocate ex travagance In dress except for women of large means. With them extra va Ranee is more than excusable—It is Justifiable. It keeps money in circula tion that would otherwise be idle it Rives legitimate employment, which is the wisest and most beneficent forte of charity, to women e-ho need work But for women in moderate circum stances a parsimonious attitude toward dress is a false and often fatal economy. If yon want to succeed in anything, look successful, able, compe tent. Otherwise yon can never inspire confidence in others, and to look suc cessful. prosperous, assured, you must be well dressed. St. Bernard Monastry At preeent the monastery of St. Bernard coate IS.OdO a yew to keep up. This teoney is partly collected in Switseriaad and partly derived from the revenue of the monastic or der 1-.-1 Summer Finery THE happy possessor of a touring car. or the happier occupant of one. who regularly takes the air In someor.e's else touring car. presents herself these days in a bonnet and a protecting coat which fastens into a “coat-dress." This garment is of pon gee or linen, very practical, dainty and a protection against the dust from collar to hem. It is shaped in such a variety of ways that one may choose from among the pattern books the most becoming style. The simplest lines remain the best and the coat dress should be plain. Brilliantine. of the washable variety, is another choice in fabrics, where the wearer has reason to wish to get something other than pongee or linen. The bonnet is made of Madagascar cloth on a supporting veil frame and does not crush the hair. The crown is made of an oblong piece folded In and the bonnet is finished about the face with shirred taffeta silk. Ties of the taffeta, made from piece-silk, are fringed out at the ends and hemmed at the sides. The frames which sup port these bonnets hardly deserve the name, for there is so little to them The cloth is a wiry fabric which needs little help to retain it in place But the bonnet Is designed to be coo! and the wire supports are made to that end. It must not set too close to the head. These pretty head pieces look very simple and they are—as simple as a sunbor.net—which is not so easy to make successfully, as its appearance might indicate. Wash Bilk or suede-lisle gloves enable the autoist to be always daintily gloved; If several pairs are provided clean gloves are always cn call for they may be washed and dried over night. It takes a very great beauty Indeed to appear at once charming and "blowsy." This summer s auto clothes are The most practical we have hai. The roomy coa:-dress is complete ard covers up a multitude of well pro tected finery, or maybe a kimona— no one can tell which, until the gar ment is taken off. Every one who possesses a lace coat cr a scarf or a shawl is making the most of many opportunities Whit with tunics, stoles, overskirts and all sorts of draperies, and the universal use of lace, every good old piece is having an airing This is likely to continue for. If the shadows that are cast before are In any way authorita tive. the silhouette of the Empress Josephine seems to be lengthening across the land abroad, and has al ready arrived over seas to us. Skirts are narrow to inconvenience at the bottom and figures suggest that the corset is about to be forgotten—in effect—but not of course in reali;y. American women have ceased to ae cept everything Paris chooses to hand out to them, however, and it remains to be seen just how the banded skirts and coals will be received. But there is no doubt about the liking for sift draperies, and old classic models never fail of some degree of weV come. The manner of draping fine bits of old Chantilly is shown in the picture just as a suggestion to some one who may own a mantle or shawl or a long scarf. There are any num her of ways by which It may be made to become a pan of the costume. Shawls are arranged with the point fastened to the bodice at the bust line plaited in at the waist on each side of the front, but hanging free at this point, ani tacked to the skirt at the sides. This is not the only manner of placing them. With trained gowns the fine shawl of old lace may play the most important part of the com | position. JULIA BOTTOMLEV. COAT FOR YOUNG eIRL j - I _ I or cloth would make up pret tily like our sketch, which has a panel front; the sides of the upper part are rlain. while those at lower part are pleated, the two are connected by a material waistband which has the right end pointed, and fastened over on the left; cord ornaments and but tons form the fastening Velvet or satin might be used to face collar and cuffs Hat of fine straw, trimmed with velvet or roses Materials required; 3 yards «S laches wide, dosea buttons. 4 yard silk or velvet. INGENIOUS COAT HANGERS Good Substitute for a Regular Article When Such Is Not at Hand. . ’ A coat or Jacket of ar.y description should be kept on « coat hanger— when not being worn. If a regular hanger does not chance to be on hand i good substitute can be erotrec by making a tight roll of wrapping paper or newspaper and tying about the cen ter a string with loops left to tang it on the hook. The paper roll if sufficiently thick will keep a coat In shape nicely. Most waists are also better hung up than laid in a drawer. In traveling it is especially convenient to be able to fashion good hangers with only a few oM papers, a bit of string and just a moment's time and work For traveling the small cases o' ex tension hangers are delightfully com pact and a great convenience. These hangers can also be bought separately and a bag of silk or dimity made for them to be carried to. Chamois Cushions. With a pattern cut out as for stencil work, the chamois cover of a cushion Is lined with rich brown satin or vel vet and finished round the edge with a brown silk cord. A second cushion top of chamois has its conventional design burnt upon It—very delicately burnt—with the pyrogmphic needle because this leather is too delicate tor careless work. To Insert Ribbon. When removtng ribbon from soiled corset covers fasten a piece of twine on one end and pull through, take oil the ribbon, leaving the string to the corset cover while ft Is being laun dored. Then by tying the ribbon on ’ one end again It Is easily pulled back into place. PRETTY DESIGN IN HOSIERY Elaborate Patterns Are In Order, and In Colors to Match Any Gown. The latest hosiery shows more elab orate patterns is the higher-priced designs and mar.y beautiful innova tions. Thixe beaded across the instep and up the ankle are perhaps the most novel, while others embroidered in vinelike designs appear more grace ful than those with the decoration scattered indiscriminately in an all over or loose pattern A design accentuating a circle just above the instep is new. and there are innumerable drop-stitch effects in the weave that will have readier male than for several past seasons The colors are unusually varied, and can be found to match any gown. Some are of a most beautiful change- ' able si’k. while others are so closely ; embroidered that they have the two- j toned effect without being actually woven * that way. Plain stockings of lisle silk cm sauae still hold their popularity with the woman of conservative taste tor all except most elaborate occasion* or for home use with dainty house gown or lounging robe A Flounce Finish. To finish the upper edge of a fi vuncy on a delicate white frock there W sug Rested a new idea in a spray of silk flowers A long and trailing tendril made of a milliner's told of delicate pink satin is tacked along the lam of Joining where the chiffon or tnlke it fastened to the skirt. Hanging from this at distances of three or tour inch es are single rosebud*, the smallest imaginable, made of pink ribbon and each one attached to a leaf made ot delicate, narrow green ribbon Now. at wider intervals, and reach ! ing upward from the long tendrils there appear wandering sprays of th* aame pink silk told ending with a tiaj pink had On the same frock th* sleeve is finished with a similar hand made decoration and the shoulder lint! bein'* the snbyoka A >AO thing to neglect. Don't neglect the kidneys when you notice lack of control oTer the sec re tions. Passages become too frequent or scanty; urine is discolored and sedi. meet appears. Xo medicine for such troubles like Doan s Kidney Pills. They Quickly remoTe kid ney disorders. Mrs. A. E. Fulton, 311 Skidmore St, Portland. Ore, says: My limbs swelled terribly and I was bloated ever the stomach and had puffy spots beneath ■ • ■ me e *es jut uaaevi were Terr unhealthy and the secre tions much disordered. The dropsical swellings began to abate after I began using Doan's Kidney Pills and soon I was cared.” Remember the name—Doan'a For sale by all dealers. 50 cents a box. Foeter-Milbum Co . Buffalo. N. T. Controlled Newspaper*. The Atchison Globe says that no ad vertiser has ever tried to control Us ed itorial policy, the remark being occa sioned by the charge often made nowa days. that the big advertisers direct the editorial policy of newspapers. The experience of the Glebe is the experience of utost newspapers. The merchant who does a great deal of ad vertising is more interested in the cir culation department of a newspaper than in the editorial department. If a daily paper goes to the homes of the people, and is read by them, he Is satis fied. and It may chase after any theory or fad. for all he cares. He has troubles of his own. and he isn't trying to shoul der those of the editorial brethren. There are newspapers controlled by people outside of the editorial rooms, ana a good many of them, more's the pity; but the people exercising that control are not the business men who pay their money for advertising space. The newspapers which are established for political purposes are often con trolled by chronic officeseekers. whoso first concern is their own interests. There are newspapers controlled by great corporations, and the voice at such newspapers is always raised in protest against any genuine reform. The average western newspaper usu ally is controlled by its owner, and ha is supposed to be in duty bound to make all sorts of sacrifices at all sorts of times: there are people who consider it his duty to insult his advertisers, Just to show that he is free and inde pendent. If he shows a decent respect for his patrons, who pay him their money, and make it possible for him to carry on the business, he is “subsi diied" or “controlled.” The newspaper owner is a business man. like the dry goods man or the grocer. The mer chants are expected to have considera tion for their customers, and they are not supposed to be subsidised by th* man who spends five dollars with them, but the publisher is expected to demonstrate his courage by showing that he is ungrateful for the patron age of his friends. It is a funny com bination when you think it over.— Eatpona Gorette HE’D HAD SOME HARD KNOCKS. "Fortune knocks once at every man's door " "Fortune is a knocker, all right" He Roae to It. "Do you know." said a little boy of five to a companion the other day. "my father and 1 know everything. What 1 don't know my father know*, and what my father don't know 1 know." "All right! Let's see. then." replied the older child, skeptically. "Where's Asia— It was a stiff one. but the youngster never faltered. "Well, that" he answered coolly. "Is one of the things my father knows.”—Harper's Bazaar. Compound Interest comes to life when the body ieels the delicious glow of health, vigor and energy. That Certain Sense of vigor in the brain and easy poise of the nerves comes when the improper foods are cut out and predigested Grape-Nuts take their place. If it has taken you years to run down don't expect one mouthful of this great food to bring you back (for it is not a stimulant but a rebuilder.) Ten days trial shows such big results that one stick* to it. “There’s a Reason” Get the little book, “The Road to Welhrille,” in pkgs. rosTvw cnau oo.. ua, •mm cm. itica.