The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

SHIRLEY ROSS : A Story of Woman's Faithfulness. Ue Bpoke so <|aietly that Uuby did not gaess what inteiiBe oolf-aoiiiniaud he had to oxeruise to aiiuwer bar at all, and ulie felt a little vague disa{)(>ointtnL-::t. Had he concjuured hia love for tibirle} .' aha won- d' red. Waa that his reason for makiiiiJ rjace with Bir Ua^h ? Had he forgiven him because bis an-^cr hai all died away ' And yot the grave faoo was very trin and steadfast. Uuy Btuart did not look like a man who could love and coise to love at will. Watching Shirley furtively with his grave gray eyes, Guy Stuart felt moro and more as if he were iu a dream. It was so itrange and unreal to he near her once more and not to be on the old sweet faniil iar terms. Not a movement of hers, hardly a word she spoke, esuaped him ; his Bensoa seemed all juickenuJ and iii- teusi/ied, although after their first short greeting they did rot exohang-s a word. lie noted the Icngiii i calm of her manner, her haughty iiidilierencd, so unlika the â- weet graciousiieas of old, and he saw too, with a thrill of pair aiii pleajuru winch he could not reprei-a, tho clian^'oâ€" percept- ible only to one who k:ie* h.'r m well aa he did â€" which came ovt-r her f*i:e and man- ner when she anawj.-ed her huabaud. Moreov«*r, he saw h )* the piiri deepened on Sir Hugh's haiMsome face Shirley heraelf in-'.er remeinhnsrod how that (â- veiling p»8«ed ; it aooniod to her aa if Alice's iiyes were watching lur every moveiiiuut, exercising ii oeaaelesa espionage over her words ami looks. aiiJ as if she muHt bear herself even i.iore proudly than usual under the scrutiny. 8lia knew that she talked, and even a'i:ig when they asked her, with a very vagutf impression of the words she uttered ana thj song she sung ; but she kLew aUo that the old sensu of rest and {>eace ai: i happiness w'nich she had always felt iu Guy's pres- ence was coming back to her heart, and that she strove against it i:i vain. Was it wrong? she wondered ; she had auSered so much, she was surely juatitjao in feeling a little happy now ! And then ahu fouud herself bidding Alice goodnight, and she beard her husband's voice, with an unusual tune of hesitation and entreaty, asking Major Htnart if he would g'l to see them. Shirley's heart beat i|uick!y as she waited lor the answer. There was a slight pause â€" HO slight as to be almost imperceptibleâ€" and then Guy answered in the allirmative ; and Hhirley put her small lingers into his for a momuDt before they were placed U|;on Lord I'^aatwell's arui to allow him to lead her to the carriage. " Ktuart seems inclined to b) friendly," Sir Hugh said, when ha api Shirley were driving awa^ in their luiurious well ap pointed carriage, speaking with an indif feruiice which was assumed in vain for his purpose. " I wonder if hs v.'ill come to see us V He said be would." •' He generally keeps his word," Shirley answered, with her usual icy iudiOeronce. " I hope not always. I r-Muember, last lime wo mot, he was gjliig to " A slight movement which Shirley made silenced him for a moment , then ho went on lightly, " I suppose hr! thinks I did nut do him such a terrible i:ij iry m ho thought at the tiuii'. He need not envy ma my wife I" " No,' Shirley answere<l, with suddi'U bitterness, luoking stea>4il) out at the lighted streets as they druva on. " (^r perhaps he has a wifi ol hu own, and she has taught him to b" charitable," said Kir Hugh, rather unsteadily. What would lie nut have t;ivnn tu rouse Shirley into anything like lesuntiiijut, into a be trayal uf feeling or passion " rerhapa," assented Shirloy relapsing into her usual indifference. " I wish lilinjiy '" sai i her husbaiid bit terly ; and thuy were atluiil for tlu rest of the way. f;HAl'Ti;H XXVIIl " Major Stuart is in th ) drawing ri'mi, my lady." " \'iry will, (lobbetl. Aik Majur Si ;nt to wait fur mo one minir.e " Yea, my lady ' The puwdered fuotman who liii made the aniiuiinoeinent dina|)pe»re i, a!;d l,ft.iy (ilyiiii put aside the booK slie had been reading as she rose to go down Ij her visitor. Khe was dressed, aa usual, In perfeit taste, and there waa i.o ai|.;n bf porturhaliuii in her manner as she went downstairs to receive the man whu, but fur an untoward fate, wiiiild have been her husbaml ; but (iuy knew her face too well not tu nee what intense pain and pleaaiiru thia, her JjrBl interview alone with him, gave her. He waa ataiiding by the window uf the drawing ruuin when alie entered, and alie was cloae beside him before he heard her ; then, with a start, he turned and saw her standing, slim and graceful, in her dark velvet dress with soft old laces at throat and wrists. Hhe held out her hand to him in silence, and e<|ually in silence he took it for a moment In his strong claap ; as he released it, it full heavily at her side. Then she said very softly, but in a vuloe which was like music, it was so woudroualy sweet aud melodious - " 1 am very glad to sea you. It waa very good of you to come" " You thought 1 would come '/" he said, with a kindly smile. " I am fortunate in liniiing you at home." " I am generally home froDi three to five. One oannut be always on Ihs treadmill yon know." " On the treadmill I" lie repeated, look- ing at her with a qui. k <|uestioning glance. '- Yes, the round uf fashion," she ans wered nervously, linking her white fingers together with a gesture uf pain. "1 don't think the treadniill can he much worse." " I supiiogc it ia wenriaorao and mono- tonous at times ; but the season is not a very long one, yon know." " Nut a very long one ')" aha questioned, with a little sigh. •• No, certainly not. And every position has its duties," he answered, with gentle gravity. " You left yours to take care of thum- selves for a long time, " she taid suddenly graver and i|nietor now, and there was an ailded paiu about the lips under hia dark mou.itfti he which Lady Glynn caught. " Forgive me," bhirlej said aoftly. " I ought not to have said that. Will you not sit down?" She moved away from him as she spoke, with an uncertain restless movement very unlike her usual languid grace. Hia eyes, full of wistful pain, followed her, and the thought crossed him whether it had been wise to come. " We have met several times," she said, in a low ill-assured tone, " since that first evening, but 1 have never had an opportun- ity of thanking you for yourgoodnes.s then. Will vou let ine'do HO now •"' •• You will not do 60, unless you wish to pain me terribly," he answered hurriedly. 'â-  Even if I liadnot given a promise to uiy uncle, do you think so meanly of me as to believe that I had kept malice in my heart for four long years, Shirley?" The color rose slowly and painfully in her face, and her eyea fell before hia. •• Y'ou promised your uncle ?" she said, rallying a little. " When ?" " On his death bod." " Ho diedâ€" when ?" " Ue died three days after 1 left you in Scotland." He sjKjke with evident effort, but with perfect calm, although under his bronze the pallor deepened to ghastliness. And you could forgive even then?" she said, lifting her eyes to hia with a swift reproach. •• Kveii then," ho replied g-?ntly. " It was hardly more bitter pain then. Shirley, than it is now. It waa not eaay for me to forgive." he added earnestlyâ€"" not easy â€" ah, no 1 " " U ia easier now?" she saiii quickly. " You can see the wrong is not so great as it seemed then? Noâ€" oh, no, do not go- do not leave ine, and in anger ! I will not vex you again." " You do not vex me â€" you pain me un- utterably," he said ; and hia voice was a little strained, for all its gontlencaa. " Do 1 ? Then I will not. Tell me of yourself. You were so long a time a wan- derer that you must have brou;;ht home many a story and narrative." " Nothing likely to interest yon uiucli," he said >|uietly. " I am net a good r,i<-ou- tfur. you know." '• Y'ou used not to he," she answered ; and there was a little embarrassed pause, during which the thoiighta of both wan- dered back to the past, the old sweet, bitter past which lay cold and dead between them now. " Huby tells me that you often go to them." she said preacntly. â- â-  Y'es, they are very good in wishing to have me, and it givea me great pleasure." " (Jswald is greatly improved . " " Yes. He ia a young man to have the reHponsibility of a wife and family," saiil Guy, smiling. " IJut he is veryhappy. In his case at least Shakspeare is proved in the wrong when he said a voung man married is a young man iiiarrod. " " I suppose there are exceptions to every rule," rejoined Shirley. " Ihoy are happy enough." " Yes ; there is my beau i.leal of what a home should be," Guy said ; then, very gently and gravely, l>ending forward a little toward lier as she sat, her riih velvet dress falling aruund her, her little jewelled hands lying idly in her lap, he added. " Why ia not youra a happy home, Shirloy 'l" " Mine," she exclaimed in ai;itated tones --" mine ! How can it be " " Why should it nut be ' ' " ('an yuu ask?" she said, with passion ate reproach flashing into her lustrous eyes. " Yes, 1 ask you," he answered in the same gentle manner. " I am an old friend, and yuu niUHt give me a fri-.iut'a priNileges. Why lye you not happy in )our home, hhirley." " Huw can 1 be happy ? How could I be happy- trapiMtd, betrayed aa I waa into a marriage in which there la neither love nor rt-spect ?" slie uskeii pasaioiialely. " .\ru you forgetting what it past, Guj .' Are you â€" " " 1 am forge-tting nothing;," he said gently Htill. " 1.1 It likely that 1 shmild ? iliit your hiiahand loves you, and " "i.uvea me!" she echoed wildl} . " 1 prefer hate tu such hue as that I ' " Hush oh, hiiah, my child I " Guy cried earneatly. " It breaks my heart to hear yon r^peak HO bitterly. l>ear, is it pu.-iHihle that iliiriiig all this time \ on have nut fur given your liUHband and the wrung he did yon ill the pnat. that joii have clieriahed anger and hatred and inalici* in your heart against hiiii ?" " I have not forgiven him," she said pasaioiitktely " 1 never will fuigive him! lie has no right tu e.vpi^ct it. Huw ran I for^'ive liiiii '!" hIiu went on. rising and restlessly clasping and nnc'laHping her little hands. " When 1 think oh, Vklieii 1 think, 1 feel aa if I iniiat go mad with the recollection of my wrongs! Gan you guess what my life has been," she asked turning to Guy, who had risen also, with a look of intense pain on his grave face, "forced me to live ill outward concord with a man whom 1 despise and detest and abhor, forced to b<ar his touch, hia carets, his kiss? it has been horrible bejuud all words beyond all description. Oh, Guy, let me tell yuu I All these years 1 have borne my sorrow in silence because there was no one whom I could trust, whom 1 could speak to, and it seemed sometimes as if my heart must burst with its load of anguish." " Shirley," he said brokenly, his face white as death, his hands trembling at the passion and desolation of her manner, " I cannot hoar yon ; it is nut right." " Ah, let me tell you !" she entreated, looking up at him with earnest child like rust. " I do not often give way thus ; but it will ho Biich comfort to tell you I Humetiines it has seemed as if my brain must hurst, ni> temples throb so, and I am obliged to smile and go into Society not to lot people guess. Oh, 4f I were not so strong that 1 might die I Or, if I could kill him if I could kill him!" " Hhirley I" The gentle pained voice, the touch of his hand u|)on her hot trembling fingers, the expression of the dark gray eyes which looked at her with such sorrow and pain, brought tears, and she bowed her head upon her hands, weeping passionately and unre- etraincdly ; and ho did not try to stop the looking at him, fts thuy stood at the window i bitter tears they couhi not fail to ease the facing each other, with rjuiok reproach and overphargod heart and throbbing brain, pain. Hut how hard how terribly hard it was Major Stuart's face changed slightly. It then tu keep his promise to his uncle only had been grave and qoiat oefjro , it grew Uuy Stuart knew. He paced up and down the beautiful room, not dariagto trust him- self to look at the bowed drooping figaro, trying to shut his ears to the broken heart rending sobs â€" but in vain. His hands were clinched until the nails almost entered the flesh, and he ground his teeth together in a fury to which no words could have given vent. He lo-ed her so madly, be pitied her with such an intense pity, be longed with such a heartfelt longing to b« able to con- sole and comfort her I Were there no means by which be could deliver her from this bondage? Was there no road which led to peace at least, if not to bap pinesa? And, look which way he might, he could distinguish none save through the paths of sin and crime and dishonor. And must such p»tha be trodJen ? Did he love her well enough, or did he love her too well for that ? CHAPTER XXIX. " Did you ever see anything more lovely ?" asked Lucie Grey softly, as her gray eyes â€" such frank kindly gray eyes they were, inspiring trust and confidence â€" eyes that were fitting windows to the gentle and honest soul which made the Vicar of Easton'a eldest daughter so justly beloved in his pariahâ€" strayed over the lovely landscape lying before her, which the sun waa flooding with a rich golden light and ha/.G that gave it yet more wondrous beauty than Nature had already bestowed upon it. The Vicar's three daughters had been spending a luxurious half holiday on the cliffs, and had enjoyed it to the uttermost. It was Hot often that their busy lives gave them leisure for dreaming away a few hours among the rooks, fur Mr. Grey's living was not a very remunerative one, and hia family waa large, so that Lucie and Ada, and even bright little Uessie, his third daughter, although she w4s not yet sixteen, found plenty to do in assisting tneir delicate mother in her household labors ; teaching the little ones, helping their father in his parish work, mothers' meetings and disinct visiting, coal, blauKet, and clothing clubs, {Mmny- readings and Sunday -school teaching being a few of their multifarious duties. i'erhaps it was its rarity which always made a holiday seem such a thoroughly en joyable day to these girls. .\ny one com- ing upon them as they lingered upon the rocka would have seen a picture of perfect and innocent SDJoyment. Lucie had been sketching ; but ahe had put aside her drawing materials now, and was letting her eyes rest with delight on the acene before ner â€" the calm smiling sea with the golden ha/u upon it, the blue sky overhead, the coaat -such a coast as only a Uevon or Cornwall can boast â€" stretching far on either aide in abrupt outlines and undulations, and the >|uaint little town of Easton itself, lying in the hollow formed, as it were, by a break in the long liiie.s of cliff which bad left a cbahin. llehiudthem the cliffs rose rugged and hold, and far and wide the coaat stretched in points and headlands and bays and crescents, witn here and there a space far down on the cliff side which had been cleared for build- iiig, or whore some wealthy [lerson had erected a charming siimmor residence iu sight of the sea and shore. Kaston itself, witK it.s one long, i|oaint. irregular str^iet, fan yi a scattered manner down to the very (x^ach itself, the sea almost waahing the bases of some of the houses. The harbor was a small but pic- tures<|ue one, and it gave refuge to the fisher boats by whiih the fishing population obtaini'd tlieir living from the deep waters. The Grey girls lo\ed the ijuaint little town dearly ; they had not time to feel its du|. iieas and monotony ; and the iKn'p love uf nature which they had imbibed from their father made the aceiiory around some of the fairest in England -a constant delight tu them. Their pleaaure in it now waa as great as if their eyes had never dwelt on it before. Lucie contemplated it with a feeling uf delight mixed with despair at her inability to reproduce such beauty. Ada, stretched bcHide her, with her head on her sister's lap, lucked at it dreamily, letting its love linosH soothe lier with a aeiiae uf peace and ri*st ; and IteSHie stood behind, pausing in her occupation of preparing tea, at Lucie's eiiniestly spoken <|Uestiun, to let her glance r -^t upon It tuu. " l>u vou think it looks more lovely than usual. Lulu?" she aaki'd saucily, after a niiniile's silent admiration. " It always has a fresh loveliness for nil'," Lucie answered, Hiniling. " And I hclievii you enjoy it just as much as Ada ur myself." , " Of course 1 think it jullier living at lOaaton than in a poky old town," llesaie said jauntily. " Hut I dun't go in for artistic tastes like yon and Ada. l''or in. stance, the prospect of ' bliss ' is a much I pleaaanter one tu me than that prospect," alie added merrily, jerking her chin toward the gulden shadowed aea. ! ' ' llliss'! " said .-Vila, sitting eagerly and louking round Lucie's camp stool toward liiT >oiiiiger sister's preparations tor tea. " l>o you mean to say that we are to have 'bliss ' for tea ?" Bessie nodded emphatically. " 1 do," she said. " My eternal gratitude is yourt," Ada re- joined, with a sigh of content, or the deli- cacy, composed of clotted cream and jam and cake, whii^h Beaaie iu her childish days had called " bliss," because it waa better i than happiness, was a favorite dish of hers. "What a blissful sight I' remarked llesaie demurely, intent iip»n trying to in- duce the little kettle upon the spirit-lamp to stand on its somewhat unsteady base. I " Itossie " -Ada sat up again, aud looked I at her sister with solemnly reproving eyes \ did I hoar aright, or did luy eara ile(!eivo mo? " " It was a very bad pun, Ada," said Lucie merrily, " su wo will ignore it." ' There is one thing certain," .\da de- clared, auttling herself comfortably once moreâ€"" if Dr. Johnson wore still in exist- ence and had chanced to paaa this way, Mr, Easton 'a third daughter would not bealive at thih present moment." " Thank goodness, ho is Hon eal," laughed Ilessio. " We get enough of him in the dictionary. Hurrah 1 It is boiling at last 1 Ada, the supreme monieut ia approach- ing I" " Something or some one else ia approach- ing too," Ada said, laughing. " What a bore I Who can it be ? Look, Luoioâ€" you are not near sighted as I am." Lucie turned her head and looked for a moment steadily at a solitary figure com- ing toward them across the beach, for tho girla had encamped iu the shadow of the oliff among some bowl dors of rook which were a favorite resort Tha snnshine did not t<mch the strip of shioigla ovnr which the auiitary graceful woman's figara was advancing, and to Lucie's gentle eyes it seemed a very desolate and lonely one. " I think it must be one of the grandees who have taken the ' Pack of Cards ' for the summer months." said Bessie, looking also, " What a nuisance ! I dislike lan- guid fine ladies above all thiogs " " Having had ao mU':b exporience," Ada put in alyly. " I've read of them," said Beaaie con- temptoualy â€" " fainting if they cat their fingers, and going into hysterica if they aee a spider I Even mother said Lady East- well was horrid." " I don't think oar mother said that, Bessie," opposed Lucie gently, not removing her eyes from the alowly advancing figure, which she waa watching with an intent gaze. " Well, I am sure ahe did not like bar manner," amended Bessie carelessly," " rvor Mrs. Beaudesert." " Thia is neither Mrs Baauiaaert nor Lady Eaatwell," said Lucia, a little tender pitying tone coming into h^r voice. " I think it is Lady Glynn." "Lady Glynn !' Ada started op eagerly. "Is it, do you think ? I do not think aba if strong enough to walk so far. You know it wsrs pirtly for her h^lth they came down here." " It is she ueverthass," said Lucie, quietly : and, aa the slim graceful figure oame nearer with ita aljw languid step, Mias (irey went forwari to meet it, for- getting entirely that Lady Glynu waa one of the " great ladies" who bad come to enjoy the Easton aea brae^as, iu bar tender fiity for the pallor and weariuass of the ovely face which aha had seen oi ce or twice at church and ouoa iu tha Vicrage drawing-room, when Shirloy had come on foot in her aiinplo cambric dress, too deli- cately minded to exhibit h^^ woalth before the |>oor clergyman's family, to call on the vicar's wife. Shirley's face brightened sajdauly and swiftly as her eyes mat Lu -ie'a ; aha had liked what little she had seen of the Greys so much that it gave bar uaf jigaod pleasure to meet the girla " Have you not walked a littlj too far. Lady Glynn ?" Lucie said gently. " It was not very prudent." " The air waa so pleasant and the after- noon 80 lovely that they tempted me." returned Shirley, amiUi-.g. " Basidee, your fresh sea-breezes have done m J a world of good. Miss Grey- But I fjar," ah.; addea, with a glance at Bessis'a preparations. " that I am intruding upou you ' "Oh, no â€"oh. no! Ala said quickly, coming forward shyly. â- â-  Wj shall be so glad I We are going to hav< tea, and " "Tea here? What a delightful idea!" said Shirley, as she held out bar hand to Bessie, who stood a little apart, ahy and blushing. " Thia ia anotharof your sisters, Mias Grey 7 What lucky girls you are! I never had a sister." This is Bessie," said Lucia I have seen her at cburob marabaliug a demure little part# of acuool children," Shirley remarked, smiling ' Miaa Bdsaie, am very tired and ihiraty. Will you bestow a cup of sour tea on ui:) 1" And then she aat down uuoneof the bowl- ders watching with gantle smiliug eyes Bessie's primiti\ e arraugemeuta au.l iookiug so lovely ill her delicate gray J rasa that Bessie declared afterward thtt slie -uuld have devuured her, ' hat, Jrjss, French b>X)t.s, and all." It was a pleasant littli) tea party under the shadotv uf the ch:). with tli i aea glit teriiig ill the distance, for tha tida was luw and the sun wrapping i: ui a goldan ha<:e. The tea [)ot was a bl^kck oiu, and its lid was iiiiiius a handle, aud thj cups were nuraer) mugs with grotesq ir) pi.tures and rliymeH upon them, and tUe bowlders did not make very comfortablj aoats ; but tha tea itself was strong ani fragrant, the lotted cream an excallaut substitute for nilk, uiid l.tdy Gi>:r.i crowa^i Besaio's aatiafaction liy Ueilanng that " bliss ' was delicious and well m -rited th i name ahe hail given i;. Tiieii, when tea was over, it was >|uaint an 1 pr.<tty to aee Bessie's piiik I'liigt-ra I'.ppuig Itie mugs into tho little poula uf aea water which the re- ceding title hail left betweei; the bowlders, an t to hear her inerrv lauguter .;choing in tile quiet solitude of the rjcka aud cliffs : aiKl .Sliiil.ij, sitting on one great lUt bowl- iler, leaiieil her preitv head agtiinat a large! one, which served aa i support, and fell tile calm of the place and houc atealing over her. The viciir's daughters were very pleasant conipamuna ; tliev were well rjad, and, although their education h-il bjyii con- ducted on rather Lirtlioviix pri.iciple.s. it had been far mure thorough ttiaa o.ie obtaliied during a long sojourn at a faaluonable boarding school They wero moreover thoroughly uuaffeclel, a:iJ Shirley had had too few acijuainlauc«a in her brilliant fashiunablo career nut to appreciate these new ones very highly, aud to find much pleasure In tlieir pleasant kindly chit-chat. Before long even Bessis had entirely for- gotten that Shirley was a graat lady far above them in rank aui [loaition ; she looked so sweet and gentle, and was so pleasant and thoughtful, aud so lateroated III their homo duties and occupations, and entered so thoroughly into Ljcia'a wish to travel and see lovely scenery and Ada's desire for change and variety, that they soon fell at home with her. " You could hardly have lovoUar acenory than this," she told tham, gaziug ovar tho sua with a dreamy far away look iu her beautiful sad eyes. " I often think it is a pity to rush abroad whan thjre is ao much beauty at liume." " You have been a great daal abroad, Lady Glynn?' " Y'oa, all my girlhood was spent abroad," see answered, m tho low voioo. with ita pathetic little thrill, which Lucia thought ao awoet. " 1 have a very aorrowtul mem- ory connected with the first night I si)eut in llnglaiid. My dear niothar died juat at daybreak." liiicie and Ada looked at her aympathet- iually and Lucie'a mouth trembled a little What should they do if their mother wore taken ? " Indeed almoat all my happy memoriea are connected .with suuny France," she went on, with a liltla wtatful amila ; " and it will always be the dearest ooautry in the world to me." "Do you know Scotland, Lady Qlynu?" " I have boon there." pain which deepened \a tho awuot ayes. " Yes." " Do yon like Scotland, fcady Glynn?" " No." The tone was very oalm and qaiet ; bat so-iiething indefinabla, jot which all three girls felt, prevented any further question- ing, and there was a littla silence. The evening was drawing on ; but the season was summer iu all ita beauty and warmth, ao that there was no chilliness ia the air to cause any discomfort. Luoie however gently forced Shirley to submit to be wrapped in a soft scarlet knitted shawl which they had brought, and Lady Glynn smiled and thankad bar softly ; and when Lucie sat down by her aide, she took the girl's hand and held it between her little fingersâ€" such frail, alender, almost shadowy fingers they saemed aa Lucy's firm hand cloaed over tham caraaaingly " We want only aoma music to make thia perfect," Shirley said softly. " Ada will sing us somatbing," responded Lncie, amiling. " She ia our nightingale. Lady Glynn. I should lika you to hear her." " i. should like to hear hor very much," Shirley said, in her pleasant' kindly tones. " Please give me that pleasure, Miaa Ada." Ada flushed a little at the thought of singing before so critical au aaditor as Lady Glynn would probably be ; but she said, smiling, that tha littla she could do was not worth asking for twice, and ahe began to sing in a voice clear and sweet aa a silver bell, and ao iruj that ua lack of cultivation was not noticaabla. The rich notes rose, sounding claarly iu tha soft summer twilight, and raachiag the isars of a tall man iu a tweed travailing suit, who was coming swiftly aud lightly down the cliff path, and who pausad to liatau, look- ing far away out at sea, as ha stood mid- way between the sea and chfl brow, in a position which appeared pariloas enough. (To be coauuiil i Th« Farmers' la^lea>lok. An excellent mode of sjppljiug aapporta for growing pea viuea is to have two or three strands of cord running along the rjws. It is cheaper than lath or pea sticks and can be more easily removed after pea harvest is ready. The bright spring days will cause the young piga to grow rapidly. Turn them on grass as soou as tiiey are 10 woeka old, but gradually at first, or they may have the scours. It will cost but very little to raise a few pigs if they bj givju tho privi- lege of a small grass plot and fad twice a day. Plont beet, carrot ani parsnip seed early, so as not only to get aiiaaa of thegraaa, bat to give plasty of time growth. The most important matter with such crops is to have a fine, rich, claa;: seod bed, and to use plenty of seed. The seed la alow ta ieruii- uatiug, and often fails to sprout at ail. If a hen be properly fad aha will con- tinue to lay without deairiug to iucubate. She ahould not be allowad to become fat. The suppoailiou that a ban lays a certain number of egg^, or a " clutch," or " litter," as it IS sometimes callad, is arroueoas. If properly fed a hen will ooatiuua to lay until the period shall have arrived for her to molt. When stock is turned on tha pasture, and there left all day, tha water supply must be looked after. A milob cow must have plenty of water. Sbj cauiot wait until she ia driven up at i-.ight. I'tio wat.'r is a necessary constituent of tha milk, and she must have It during til.) time tha milk is being manufacture 1 If djprivad of water during tho warm davj bar supply of milk will fall off. Kashiuu's Wtya Young ladies now wear ihjir slort cloth jackets uubottoned i:; tha street ou tiue days, and have a single fraah fijwar thrust through a buttdnhole jf tha Erout. Narrow colored ribboua, with pioot edges, are aewn flat, in rj*s, u^iou tha figured challies now so much worn N-irrow moire ribbons are used in tba sima mauuor to trim plain cashmeres Nearly the most popui jr hit of thy sea- son IS the turban. wUi li la uiida of a big flat piece of straw that looks likj pancake. It la plaited and draw i aver * soft crowu and encircled with a pelf or roll velvet or silk. Loopa are aot high ia front aud a cluster of tluwera la frequeatly aaded. It is becoming more aud more tha cus- tom for ladies tu wear a v.'ry tiuii light- colored face veil to the th.^atieat night. By this means the front l:ai.- is k.^pt ui place, and the fair dame or damsel need have no an.xiety about the ajjustmeiit of hor " bangs " or crimps aftor sha leaves her looking-glass. A pretty dress for a boy of 4 is made of fine dark blue serge. Tha akirt is kilted, and half a dozen rows of wl-.ite wool braiding lard run straight around the bottom. There is a loose blouse waiat of white surah and a littla squaro cat /.uuave j-»cket of the serge, trimmed wr.li rows of braid to match the skirt, A big white cord, with knotted ends, is tiad about the bei;, and through it is thrust a long stemmed rosebud or a bunch of daisies. A large leghorn or fine white straw "flat" ia worn with thia suit. It may be trimmod with a folded blue handkerchtaf and a twist of the big white cord. Teiuperaiiee N.ikvs. The largest brewery in Kansas waa closed .•\pril 11th by order of tha l' a itad States Marshal. The anniversary oC the W. C. T. l'. of Tokio, Japan, was held racontly, when two or three Japanese ladies gave excellent addresses to an audience of ono thousand. An appeal waa made fpr money with which to carry on tho work, and it is atatod that in a few minutes 8'2l)0 was raised. It ia wonderful how tho globo ia being bolted by the white ribbojj. Tho World's W. C. T. U. waa organized only four years ago, aud already twontyouo different nations have joined this federation. Tho Womon's Christian Tomporauoe Dnion, Auckland, N Z, founded by Mrs. Mary Clement Loavitt,tho round the- world missionary of the National Womon'aOhris- tiau Temperance Union, is in a flourishing condition. Too much cannot bo said in praise of Mrs, Leavitt'a work, which has been ardaoua in a very great degree, and wherever she haa been tho reaulta have shown aomething solid to have baeu left behind. rhe Highlands are lovoly, are they Q^e^talla^^ To^i. ifZ J^:^ i till â-  i A 1 . â-  ,. . " *"v»T unvauiic not? aaid Ada, not sooiug tho yaarutug and grown. X ^