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^" ry^m K,^wi»immmmm.i â- BiiLJ.l! .I.WWIP»>!»I^^^ ''.',!!». ' »"â-  T AS GOOD AS GOLD. CHAPTER XXI.â€" CONTINUED. "It had bettor be done properly," he added, after a jiauae. "A Bmall annu- ity ia what lahould like you to haveâ€" so â- s to be independent of meâ€" and »o that I may lie Independent of you. Would that please yet" "Certainly." "Ther I'll see about It thia very day." He seemed relieved to get her off his hands by this arrangement, and aa far aa they were concerned the mat- ter was settled. She now aimply wait- ed to see the lady again. The day and the hour came; but a llrizzling rain fell. One side of the churchyardâ€" the aide towards the weatherâ€" was .sheltered by an ancient thatched mud wall, whose eaves overhung as much as one or two feet. At the bock of the wall was a oorn-yard with its granary and barns â€"the place wherein ahe had met Far- frae many months earlier. Under the projection of the thatch she saw a figure. The young lady bad come. Her presence so exceptionally substan- tiated the girl's utmost hopes that she altnoet feared ber good fortune. The lady had such a cheerful aspect In the drizzle that Elizabeth forgot ber fancy. "WeU," said the lady, a little of the whiteness of her teeth appearing svith the word through the black fleece that protected her face, "have you de- cided f" "Yes quite," said the other eagerly "Your father ia willing ?" "Yes." "Then come along." "When madam?" "Nowâ€" as soon as you like. I bad a Cood mind to send to you to come to my house, thinking you might not ven- ture up here in the wind. But, as I like getting out of doors, I thought I would come and see first." "It was my own thought." "That shows we sbaJl agree. Then Mn you come to-day? My bouse is so - twllow and dismal that 1 want some living thing there." "I think 1 mi«ht be able to," said the ^rl, reflecting. Voiceo were lx>rne over to them at that instant on the wind and raindrops from the other side of the wall. There name such words as "sacks," "quarters," "threshing," "tailing," "next Satur- day's market," eacli sentence being dis- organized by the gusts like a face In^all by the potitern at which KllzabeU had 80 nearly I'licouiiterml him. He had gone on thence Lntu the court, and to you t Or am I not to know t" "Oh ye» â€" certainly. It ia only in the townâ€" High Street HaJl." "Where?" said Uenchard, hia face stilling. She repeated the words. He neither moved nor spoke and waving ber hand to him in utmost friendliness, she sign- ified to the flyman to drive up the street. CHAPTBB XXH. We go back for a moment to the pre- ceding night, to account for Hencbard's attitude. Al the hour when C!izal)eth-Jane was contemplating her stealthy reconnoit- ring excursion to the abode of the lady if her fancy, he had been not a little anmzed at receiving a letter by hand in Lucetta's well-known characters. High Street Hall. "My dear Mr. Heuchardâ€" Don't be surprised. It U for your good and mine, as I hope, that I have come to live at Casterbridge â€" for how long I cannot tell. That depends upon an- other ; and he is a man, and a naer- chant, and a Mayor, and one who has the first right to my affections. "Seriously, mon ami, I am not so li^ht-hearted as 1 may seem to be from this. I have come here in consequence of hearing of the death of your wife whom you used to think of as dead so many years before I Poor woman, she .st-enM to have l>een a sufferer, thuugb uncomplaining, and though weak in intellect not an imbecile. I am glad you acted fairly by her. As soon as T knew she was no more it was brought homo to me very forcibly by my conscience that I ought to en- deavour to disperse the shade which my ctourderie flung over my name, by asking you to carry out your promise tu me. I hope you are of the same mind, and that you will take steps to thia end, ajs, however, 1 did not know how you were situated, or what had hapiiened since our separation, 1 de- cided to come and establish myself here before communicating with you. "You probably feel as I do about this. I shall be able to see you in a day or two. Till then, farewell.â€" Yours, "Lucetta. "rj8.â€" I was unable to keep my ap- pointment to meet you for a moment or two in ponsing through Casterbridge the other day. My plans were alter- ed by a family event which it willuur- prise you to hear of." He said with a puzzled air to the first person he encountered, "Who is coming to live at the Hall?" "A lady of the name of Templeman, T l^tieve, sir," said his informant. Hfnchanl thought it over. "Lucetta in governess or housekeeper there, 1 suppose,' 'he said to himself. "Yes, I must put her in her proper position, undoul)tedly." ' In this frame of mind, thuugb with- out strong feeling, he bad strolled up pj«e blind alley and into High Street a curv^ mirror. lli)tb the women list- eneL'^kbo are those?" said the lady. "me Isjmy father. He rents that yarl ^Kd Ijarn." TM liidy seemed to forget the im- mediate business in listening to the le- ohnicalities of the corn-trade. At last •he said suddenly, "Did you tell him where you were going to?" "No." "Oihâ€" how was that ?" • "1 thought it safer to get away first •-aa he is so uncertain in his temper.'" "Perhaps you are right. . . . Be- fides I have never tuld you my name, t is Miss Temulleman. . .Are tbey gone â€" on the otner side f" I "No. They have only gone up into the granary." ' "Well it is getting damp here. I â- hall exi>ect you to-dayâ€" this evening, â- ay, at six." 'Which way shaiU I come, ma'arat" imiuired of a man whom he saw un- packing china from a crate, if Miss he Sueur wa.s living I here. Miss Le Sueur had Iwen the name under which he had known Lucettaâ€" or "Lucotte" as she had called herself at that time. The man replind in .liic negative; thai Miss Tc.mi>li-maii only lini come. He was in tais interested stage of the iiuiuiry w lieu he witnessed iiliza- betli-Jane'.s deiHirture the next day. Ou hearing her announce the addres.<» there suddenly took i>ossession of him the strange thought that Lucetta and Misjs Temphiman were one and the same |)er.san, for he could recall that in her reason of intimacy with him the name of the rich relative whom he had deem- ed somewhat a raylhicuil personage had been given as Teiupleuian. But Ilenrbard was not left long in suspense. Lucetta was rath.ir addicted towrihbling, as had been .shown by the torrent of letters after the fiasco in their marriage arrangi'menls, and "The front wayâ€" through the door. . hardly had Klizoijeth gone away when Tbere is no other." another note came to the Mayor's £llzalieth-Jane had been thinking of the door in the alley. "Perhafn, as you have not mentioned ^our desllnatitm, you may as well k»M>p vilenl upon it till yuu are clear off. Who 'knows but t.Lat he may alter his mind?" E!izal)eth-Jane sliouik her bead. "On consideration 1 dun't fear it," she said â- adly. "He hna grown quite cold to me." "Very well. Six o'clock then." Now Hencbard had not the slightest â- uspicion that Elizabeth-Jane's move- ment was to be so prom{)t. Hence W'hen, Just Ijofore six, no reached home and saw a fly at the door from the Golden Crown, and his stepdaughter, with all her little bags and boxes, get- ting into it, he was taken by surprise. "But vou said I might go father?" â- he explained, through the carriage window. "Said Iâ€" yea. But I thought you meant next mont<h, or next year. 'Od, â- eiie itâ€" you take time by the forelock. Thia then, is how you lie going to treat me for all iny trouble about ye?" "Oh, father how can you 8()eak like that r, It is unjust uf you I" ahe said with apirit. "Well, well, have your own way," he replied. He entered the house, and, see- ing that all her things had not yet lieen brought down, went up to her room to look on. He had never l>een there â- ince she had occupied it. Evidences of her care, of her endeavours for im- provement, were visible all around, in the form of Ixxiks, sketches, maps and little arrangements for tasteful effeuta. Hencbard had known nothing of these efforts. He gazed at them, turned sud- denly alHiut, and came down to the door. "Look here," he said, in an altered Toloe â€" he never called her by name BOWâ€" "don't 'ee go away from me. It may bo I've S|>oke roughly to youâ€" but I've lieen grieved beyond everything by fouâ€" tJwre's something that caused it." "By me?" she said, with deep oon- oem. "What have I done?" "I can't tell you now. But if you'll iftop, and go on 1 iving as my daughter, I'll tell you all in tune." But tiie proposal had oome ten min- utes too late. She was in the flyâ€" was already, in imagination, at the house of the lady whose manner had such oharma for her. "Father," sUiB said, as ponaiderately as she could, "I think it beet for us that I go on now. I need Bot stay long; I shall not be far away; •nd if you want me badly I can soon •ome liaok again." He nodded ever^ so lightly, aa a re- Oeipt of her deriaion, and no more. "You are not going far, you say. What will be your address, in case I wiab to write Mayor's hbuse from High Street Hall. "I am in residence," she said, "and cumfortable, though getting here has l>een a wearisome undertaking. Y'ou proljably know what 1 am going to tell you, or do you not? My good Aunt Templeman the Uinkor's widow, whose very existence you used to doubt, leave alone her afflueniie, has lat«ly died, and lieijueathed some of her pro- perty to me, 1 will not enter into de- tails except to aay that I have taken her name â€" as a means uf escape from mine, and its wrongs. "1 am now my own mistress, and have chosen to settle among the gen- tilhoinmerie of Casterbridgeâ€" to lie ten- ant of High Street Hall, that at least you may tie put to no trouUe If you wish to see tne. My first intention was to keep you In ignorance of the changes in my life till you should meet me by accident ; but I have thought belter of thi.s. "You prol>ably are aware of my ar- rangement with your daughter, and have doubtless laughed at theâ€" what shall 1 call it ?â€" practical joke (in all affection) of my getting her to live with me. But my first meeting with her was purely an accident. Do you Hee, Michael, imrtly why I have done it fâ€" why, to give you an excuse for coming here as if to viait her, and thus to form my acquaintance naturally. She is a dear, good girl, and she Ihinka you have treated her with undue se- verity. You may have done so in your haste, hut not deliberately, I am Hitre. As the result has been to bring her to me, I am not disposed to u|>- brald you.â€" In haste, yours always, "'Lucetta." The excitement which these an- nouncements produced in Henchard's gloomy soul was to him most pleasur- able. "The artful little woman I" he said, smiling. To feel that he would like to see I>u- cetta was with Henohard to start for her house. He put on his bat and went. The answer brought him was that Miss Templeman was engaged for that even- ing ; but that she would be happy to see him the next day. "That's rather like giving herself airs I" he thought. Neverlheleas, he re- solved not to go next day. "These cursed womenâ€" there's not an inch of straight grain in 'em I" he aaud, Iiet us follow the track of Mr. Hen- cbard's thought, as if it were a clue line, and view the interior of High Street Hall on this particular evening. On Elizabeth-Jane's arrival she bad lieen phUgmatically asked by an elder- ly wnman to go upstairs and take off her things. She had replied with great earnestness that she would not think of giving that trouble, and oa the in- stant, divested herself of her bonnet and cloak in the paasage. She was then conducted to the first door on the landing, and left to find her way far- ther alone. The room disclosed was prettily fur- ntshud as a boudoir or smaU drawing- room, and on a sofa with two cylindri- cal pillows, reclined a dark-haired large-eyed, pretty woman, of unmis- takably French extraction on one side or the other. Perceiving that it was Elizabeth she lapsed into ease, and came across to her with a reckless skip that innate grace only prevented from being lioisterous. "Why. you are late," she said, tak- ing bold of Elizabeth-Jane's bands. "There were so many little things to put up." "And you seem dead-alive and tired. Let me try to enliven you by some wonderful tricks I have learnt, to kill time. Sit there and don't move." She gathered up the pack of cards, pull- ed the table in front of her. and began to deal them rapidly, telling Elizabeth to choose seme. "Well, have yon chosen?" she asked, flinging down the last card. "No," stammered Elizabeth, arousing herself from a "reverie. "I quite for- got, I was thinkiiig ofâ€" you, and me â€"and how strange it is that I am here." Miss Templeman looked at Eliz'abeth- Jane with interest, and laid down the cards. "Ah I you are another sort than that," she said. "I'll lie here while you sit by me ; and we'll talk. I must telll you something," she .said. "I won- der if you have suspected it. I have only been mistress of a large bouse and fortune a little while." "Oh I only a little while?" murmur- ed Elizabeth-Jane, her countenance alightly failling. "As a girl 1 liv«d about in garri- son-towns and elsewhere with my fa- ther, till I was quite flighty ana un- settled. He was an officer in the army. I should not have mentioned this had I not thought iti best you should know the truth." "Yes, yes." She looked thoughtfully round the room. Elizabeth's mind ran on acquirements to an almost morbid degree. "You speak French and Italian fluently, no doubt." she said. "I have not been able to get beyond a wretched bit of Latin yet." "Well, for that matter, in my native i^.e speaking French does not go tor much. It is rather the other way." "Where is your native isle?" It was with rather more reluctance that Miss Templeman said, "Jersey. There they speak French on one side of the street and English on the other, and a mixed tongue on the middle of the road. But it is a long time since I was there. Bath is where my people really lielong tu. though my ancestors in Jersey were as good as ajiybo.-ly in Kngland. They were the Le Sueurs. an old family who have done great things in their time. I went back and lived there after my father's death. But I don't value such past matters, and am quite an English person in -my feelings and tastes." Lucetta's tongue Md for a moment outrun lu-r discretion. She had arrived at Casterbridge as a Ilath lady, and Ih-re were obviuuii reasons why Jersey should drop out of her life. Hut Eliza- lielh had tempted her to make free, and a deliberately-formed resolve had been broken. Expectancy sat visibly upon Lucet- ta the next morning. She dressed her- self for Mr. Hencbard, and restlessly awaited his call l>efure mid-day ; as ho did not come ahu wailed on through the afternoon. But she did not tell Eliza- beth that the person expected was her stepfather. They sat in adjoining windows of the same room in Lucetla's great stone mansion, netting, and looking out up- on the markel, which formed an ani- mated scene. Elizabelh could see the crown of her stepfather's hat among the real beneath, and was not aware that Lucelta watched the same object wilh yet intenser interest. He moved about amid the Ihruug. at this point lively as an ant-hlill ; elsewhere more reposeful, and broken up by stalls of fruit ami vegetables. 11 happened that to-day there rose in the midst of them all two or three tall aiiple-trees standing as it they grew on the spot till it was per- ceived that they were held by ceived that they were held by â-  men from tbe cider-districts who came here to sell them, bringing the clay of their country on their boots. Elizabelbr^ane. who bad often oliserved them, said, " 1 wonder if the same trees come every week?" "What trees?" said Lucetta, absorb- ed in watching for Henchard. Elizabeth ri^lied vaguely, for an in- cident checked her. Behind one of the trees stood Farfrae, briskly discu-ssing a saiiiple-liag with a farmer. Henchard had come up, accidentally encountering the young man, whose lace seemed to inquire, " Do we apeak together ?" She saw her stepfather throw a shine into bis eye, which answered " No 1" El- izabeth-Jane sighed. " Are you particularly interested in anybody out there ?" said Lucetta. " Oh. no," said her companion, a quick red shooting over her face. Luckily F'arfrae's figure was immedi- ately covered by the apple-tree. Lucetta looked 'hard at her. " Quite sure?" she said. " Oh, yes," said Klizabeth-Jane. Again Lucetta looked out. " Tbey are all farmers, 1 suppose?" she said. " Nou There is Mr. Bulge ; he's a wine merchant ; there's Benjamin Hrownletâ€" a horse-dealer; and Kitaon, the pig-breeder ; and Yopper, the auc- tioneer ; liesides malaters, and millers â€"and so on." Farfrae stood out quite distinctly now ; but sh6 did not men- tion him. The Saturday afternoon slipped op thus desultorily. Henchard bad not called on Lucetta, though he had stood BO near. The days came, but not the visitor, though Lucetta repeated her dressing with soruplous care. She was dishearten' ed. Tuesday was the great Candlemas fair. At breakfast she said to Eliza- lieth-Jano quite coolly: "I isoiagine your father may call to see you to- day ? I Buppoea. he stands close by in the market-place with the rest of the curndealers ?" She shook her bead. " He won't ooqie." "Why?" " He has taken against me," ahe said in a husky voice. " You live quarreled more deeply than I know of." Elizalieth, wishing to shield the man she believed to be her father from any charge of unnatural dislike, said "Yea." " Then where you are ia, of all placea. the one he will avoid ?" Elizabeth nodded sadly. Lucetta looked blank, twitched up her lively eyebrows and lip, and burst into hysterical sobs. Here was a contre- tempsâ€"her ingenious scheme complete- ly stultified i " Oh, my dear Miss Templemanâ€" what's the matter ?" cried her compan- ion. " I like your company much,"' said Lu- cetta, as soon as she could apeak. "Yes, yesâ€" and so do I yours 1" Eliz- abeth chimed in soothingly. " But â€" but " She could not finish the sentence, which was, naturally, that if Hencbard had such a rooted dislike for the girl as now seemed to be the case, Elizabeth-Jane would have to be got rid ofâ€" a disagreeable necessity. A provisional resource suggested it- self. " Miss Henohardâ€" will you go on an errand for me aa soon aa breakfast id over?â€" Alb, that's very good of you. Will you go and order-; â€" " Here E(hie enumerated several commissions at sun- dry shops, which would occupy Eliza- beth's time for the next hour or two. at least. " And have you ever seen the Mus- eum?" Elizabehh-Jane bad not. " Then you should do so at once. Yo« can finish: the morning by going there. It is an old bouse in a back streetâ€" I forget where â€" but you'll find out â€" and there are crowds of interesting thingsâ€" skeletons, teeth, old pots and pans, ancient boots and ^loes, birds' eggsâ€" all charmingly instructive. You'U lie sure to stay till you get quite hun- gry." Elizabefb hastily put oo her things and departed. " I wonder why she wants to get rid of me to-day I" she said sorrowfully, as she went. She had not been gone ten minutes when one of Lucetta's servants was sent to Hencbard's with a note. The contents were briefly : â€" " Dear Miciiael,- You will be stand- ing close to my house to-day tor two or three hours in the course of your business, so do please call and see me. I am sadly disappointed th'at jou have not come before, tor can I help anxiety about my own equivocal relation to you ? â€" especially now my aunt's fortune iias bnaight me more prominently he- fore society. Your daughter's presence here may be the cause of your neglect , and I have therefore sent ber away for the morning. Say you come on busi- ness â€" I shall be quite alone. "Lucetta." When the messenger returned, ber mistress gave directiorns t.hrvt if a gen- tleman called he was to be admitted at once, and sat down to await results. Sentimentally she did not much care to see him â€" his delays had wearied her ; but it was neceasary ; and with a sigh she. arranged herself picturesquely m the chair ; first this way, then that ; nex!t so thit the light fell over her head ; and thus she remained till a man's step was heard on the stairs. Whereupon Lucetta forgetting her curve (for Nature was too strong for Art as yet), jumped up. and ran and hid herself behind one of the window curtains in a freak of timidity. She could heai the servant showing the visitor into the room, shutting the door upon ihim. and leaving as if to go and look for her mistresH. The man before her was not Henchard. (To Be Continued.) GLADSTONE'S FAMILY LIFE. Like MsHT Aaethcr Old Maa He U Baled by a fill Id. A large-hearted old man, who loves children, is sure, no matter how mas- terful he may be, to be ruled by some child. Mr. Gladstone is no exception. His sunny little grauddaughter, Doro- thy Drew, rules her illustrious grand- father as imperiously as he ruled his party in the days of his political lead- ership. The Urand Old Man finds plea- sure in her companionship, and even when posed for a picture allows her to clasp his hand tightly, as if to force him to keep quiet. A writer in an Ameri- can contemporary says :â€" Never was a family more truly united than that of the Ijladstones. 'I'hey con- stitute the most whole^iome type of the British country family, wholesome in mind and wholesome in body, and no breach of dissension or scandal has ever disturbed the serenity of their mutual relations. Sons and daughters, as well as those who have entered the family by mar- riage, all vie withf one another in rev- erence and devotion for tlhie one who has done so much lo render the name which they bear illustrious, a synonym for justice, piety and generosity. But Huuerior to tbehi all on that score is the " (xrand Old Woman," as the ven- erable Mrs. Gladstone, the once fam- ous beauty, Catherine Glynne, is affec- tionately described throughout the United Kingdom. No wife is more watchful and devoted thlan she, and Mr. Gladstone has made few political speeches in parliament when she has nut sat in the gallery inspiring him with the knowledge of her presence, and tew public addresses outside the walls of Westminster when ahe has not sat by his side, whether on the platform or on the hustings. Indeed, ou one occasion, w'hi>n, about fifteen years ago, he was called upon to speak in the open air at Greenwich, to an extremely hostile audience, she won the day for him by standing throughout at his side, holding an ilm- brella to shield his silvered locks from the glare of the sun. THE CAMEL. A camel has twice the carrying power of an ox, With an ordinary load of 400 pounds he can traveii 12 or 14 days without water, going 40 mi'.es a day. Oamei'-a are fit to work at 6 years old ; but their strength begins to decline at 25, altboug^h they usually live to 40. The Tartars have herds of these ani- maila, 1,000 often belonging to one fam- ily. They were numerous in antiquity, for the patriarch Job bad 8,000. HORSE MEAT IN PARIS. Paris has 200 sbops where horse meat is aoCd. The residents of the French metropolis last year consumed over SO.OOO horses. About the Jiouse. LAUNHERING WHITE SHIETa To be able to launder a white shirt properly is an accomplishment ot which any woman may be proud If you hava had your patience tried by finding the linen dingy and the collars and cuffs Ump whem they return from the wash- er-woman's, try the following plan o( washing and ironing them, and I am sure you will be satisfied with the i»- suit. The waaliiag is just as important as the ironing, for unless the linen ia clear and white, the most careful pol- ishing .will not hide the defect. Soft water should be used If you can obtain it. Wash through one water, using plenty of ivory soap to get it clean, boit a few minutes in good suds, then rinse until every trace of soap is removed, having a little bluing in the last water. When dry prepare a cold starcn by dis- solving two tableepoonf ula of starch and a level teaspoonf ul ot borax in one and one-half cupsful of cold water. The amount of starch requii-ed varies a lit- tle, as an old shirt requires more t lian a new one. Wet the bosom and cults In hot water, wring dry, then dip them in the cold starch, moving them about un- til every thread of the linen is satur- ated with it. Wring again and roll up half an hour before ironing. This is better than the old method of cooking the starv^h and is less work. Iron the body and sleeves of the shirt first, then the cuffs and last the bos- om. A board the size and shape of the shirt tx^om covered with three or four thicknesses of flannel, then with a clean white cloth is very convenient in this stage ol ttw work. SiLip this inside the shirt, stretch the bosom smooth- ly upon it, and rub with a damp cloth. ITien iron until perfectly dry. The pol- iah is given by pressure and repeated motion with a heavy iron. i KITCHEN SUGGESTIONS. To have good bread, one must knead it a great deal. The better and mors thoroughly kneaded, the finer and more tender the loaf. Bread made with water ought to keep sweet at least a week. It sihould be thoroughly baked to be digestible. One hour is usually required fur baking a white loaf and one hour and a half for a graham loaf. After it is baked, the bread should cool quickly in a draught of fresh air. Carrots are cOnaiidered very healthy. Indeed, many people lielieve them to ba an excellent remedy fur rheu i uaHfUii. If old, tlie hearts should lie aiAcarUed. out the young and lender ones can ue cut in slices or strips after tuey have been scraped nut peeled. 'i.hey may be boil- ed imtil tender, the water then drain- ed ut( and drawn butler poured over them with a dash of salt; or lUey may be served in a dresdiug uf cream, but- ter and sail, thickened witha.pinch ot flour when boiiiug. Cri^pueriS may ue restored to vege- tables by soaluug the>ui in cold water; tweuty-lour hours is none too lung someluues. Always put the stem, euus ot asparagus m water. In the case of lettuce, put the roots in water. if cooked wtaiie wilted the vegetaule will be tough. Old potatoes are improved by soUiUoig them in water belure be- ing boiled. Cabbage and cauUUower eihuuld be cooKed in a kettle having the cover alLghlly ajar. It is said that, U cabbage is cooked in this way, the strong oaur which is generally so otieUAive is entirely preveuled, these vegetables should t>e soaked in salted waier pieviuusly. Cook in Loiliug wa- ter. Usually thirty minutes is suxti- uient. HLACK SKIRTS AND ODD WAISTS. Although not the rage, as it was two seasous ago, the fasuiuu of wear- ing block silk or satin skirts with light and pretty waists is still quite popular. it is a pretty, besides being an economical fashion. The brocaded silks and satins are now worn more extensively than the plain, and the figures are large, graceful patterns in ferns, paluis or conventional designs, 'i'he skirts of silk or satm are wide and the fuilueas hangs in graceful folds all around. They are left plain and a velveteen binding is the finish for the bottom. If uo dust ruftlie of silk is sewed to the inside uf the skirt close to the edge the faciug may be ot a pretty bright, chaugeable silk. It gives the skirt such a pretty and neat appearunoe.' uue may have several waUts for one skirl. there are su many tieautitul Silks which may be procured cheaply. A tilock oa» covered with chiflun, a pale-liuted one and one ot the black satin wuuid makes costume appropri- ate for almout any occasion- visiting, calling, or evening wear. Such a skirt is a moat satisfactory investment, ea- pecially for the woman of small resour- ces and as it is such a preuy fashion it is likely to remain in favor fur a long time, THREE PUUlWNGS. A Prune Pudding.â€" Stew one and one- half pounds of prunes, with one-fourth of a pound of white sugar. When cold, or nearly so, put in a pudding dish with very little of the syrup. Beat the whites of five eggs, ana pour over them. Bake for a tew minutes in a alow oven till the eggs all set; let it cool just before serving; spread on top one- half pint of whipped cream sweetened with a taLiiles|iouutul of sugar. 'X^his makes a delicious dessert. Cornstarch Pudding.â€" Boil one quart , of milk. While boiling moisten two tablespoonfuls of cornstarch with a little cold milk. Stir well, and add to the boiling milk, stirring and boiling constantly for five minutes. Beal the yolks ot four eggs and a quarter of « pound of granulated sugar until light, then add to the lioiling milk. After re- moving from the fire flavor with one teaspoonful of vanilla and liake. Beat the whites of the eggs until very light, adding two tea.spoonfuU of sug- ar and a little currant or strav,- ber- ry jelly. Heap ou top of the pudding and put in the oven for a few miuutM until a tight brown. Serve cold. • l»