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^ V y y Tl MYSTEEIOIIS KEY OR, PLANNING FOB THE FUTURE. CHAPTER XI.â€" (Cont'd) John Hubbard fully expected to bt able to secure bail for himself ^nd to make the most of the respite thus afforded him in feathering a snug nest for himself, in case he should escape conviction; but Mr. Ljttleton had arranged to make the amount of bail so excessive that no one was willing bo take the risk and become surety for him ; con- sequently, he was committed to the Tombs to await his trial, while Anna buried herself in obscure l<.'dgings, wisely resolving to be economical with her resources un- til th« fate of her husband should be decided, the trial having been set for about the first of February. Meantime, Lady Bromley had re- •ceived an invitation to visit her old friend and schoolmate, Helen At- wood, now Mrs. Ernest Bryant, with whom she had spent those few sad weeks long ago after the news <if the loss of the steamer on which her husband had sailed, and was supposed to have been among the loat. The Bryants were a very happy family, and owned a very lovely â- home in Brookline, oiie of the most delightful of Boston's suburbs, Mr. Bryant being a prosperous wool- merchant of that city. Helen Bryant had often impor- tuned her friend to visit her, but until now it had never seemed con- venient for her to do so, although she had long yearned to renew the old-time intimacy. Thus, while her brother and Gerald were absorbed ir preparing for the great case of Brewster vs. Brewster, she decided to avail herself of Mrs. Bryant's pressing invitation, and make the ^ong-talked-of visit. She took Ellen with her, the girl having become quite a handy little v/aiting-maid and devoted to her kmd mistress. She was delighted over the prospect of leaving New York, and uttered a long sigh of relief when the Puritan pushed off Irom her pier, and she fijlt that â- he had thus been cut loose from a menacing danger. She knew that her aunt had been arrested, and that John Hubbard was also a prisoner, but she had lived in hourly dread of meeting ber cousin ; and thus New York had become a, place of t<jrment to her. Ever since learning that Lady Bromley's homo was in England, she hatl begged that she would take her there to live with her when she returned, and, as her ladyship had promised to grant her request, if all went well, the girl was begin- ning to lose something of the anxi- <us, hunted expression which her face had always worn ; while, with good fare, neatly fashioned cloth- ing, and the constant companion- ship of her cultivated mistress, she was fast developing into a hale, well-behaved, and efficient young woman. The memory of Allison was still most sacred to her, and she still worshipped her in secret. Several times Gerald had caught her upon ber knees before the easel, upon »hich the picture of his loved one lasted, gazing with a look of ador- Cition at the beautiful face, while hot tears of grief rained ovei her cheeks. He was so touched by this evi- dence of her affection he gave her « picture of Allison, and it became to her the choicest treasure in her possession, while from that moment Gerald might have asked any sac- rifice from her and she would have fpared no effort to serve him. Lady Bromley had promised to spend several weeks with her fiiend, her visit being limited only bj the fact that she must return to New York in time for the trial, when Ellen would be required as a witness for the plaintiff. Mrs. Bryant and her ladyship Oere very happy in renewing their «ar!y friendship and in reviewing the exf/ericnee of their school days. "I made a terrible mistake, how- ever, Helen." the latter observed one day, when they were convers- ing about her romantic marriage «ud the exciting events that fol- kwed it. "To be sure, all ended well, and my life with my husband was a very happy one ; but I have often trembled in thinking of the temerity of that momentous step ! I shall never forget the mental suf- fcring which I endured all that year with the burden of that ter- rible secret on my mind, and I have «tten wondered how I nianaj;ed to get through with my studies and pass my Examinations creditably. "Yes. and it was a rash act," ber friend gravely as.sented, "and I have passed a great many re- morserul hours in view of having aided and abetted you and Sir Charles; bit I was young and thoughtless, and the romance of being associated with such a genu- ioe love-affair was a temptation which I was unable to resist. I do I ipe you lifcve forgiven ine tor my share in that sad experience," she concluded, with a regretful sigh. "You were forgiven from the first, dear," said Lady Bromley, as she brushed some hot tears from her cheeks. "I am alone to blame for it all, and I do not know what would have become of me at that time if you had not proved yjourself so staunch and true. Your kind care probably saved my life during that terrible illness which pros- trated me upon learning of the loss ul the Catalonia. But, ah I I wish 1 could secretly tell my experience to every young girl who is away from the shelter of her own home, and warn her of the consequences ot such a rash act. If a young man really loves a girl, he will wait for her and seek her in marriage in an open, straightforward manner. If I had only been firm and refused to marry Charlie secretly, he would eventually have sought me in my own home, asked for me in a man- ly fashion, and I should have been spared all that sad experience which we both regretted all our lives." "But," continued Mrs Bryant "I shall never forget that happy day when Sir Charles walked in upon us so unexpectedly to claim his wife, and turned your sorrow into joy. I thought him the grand- est fellow alive, and I am sure he was devoted enough to you ever af- terward to make up for having tempted you to err in that one in- stance." "Yes, we were happy together, and yet the sting of that early mis- take will never be entirely obliter- ated," said Lady Bromley sadly. She had barely finislied speaking when the door of r.!;-s. Bryant's boudoir was rudely t'lrown open, and Ellen Carson rushed into the room in a state of great excite- ment. "Lady Bromley! Lady Bromley! Oh I come quick !" she criec breath- lessly, her fade white as chalk, and unable to articulate another word, she sank upon the floor at her mis- tress' feet and burst into nervous weeping. CHAPTER XII. Both L?dy Bromley and Mrs. Bryant were greatly startled by Ellen's sudden appearance in such a state of grief and excitement. She was usually very quiet and un- obtrusive, moving about her duties with a cheerful alacrity which be- spt)k6 her desire to please the wo- man to whom she owed so much, as well as an increasing affection and sense of gratitude. "Why, Ellen! what has happen- ed? Why are you so excited I" questioned Lady Bromley, as she bent over the sobbing girl and laid her hand kindly upon her shoul- der. The touch seemed to restore her in a measure, when, springing again to her feet, she seized the woman's hand and tried to raise ber from her chair. "Come, come!" she reiterated al- most wildly; "you must come and tell him that I have told the truth." And by main force she pulled her huiyship toward the door, appar- ently unmindful of the rudeness of the act or the lack of respect she was thus displaying toward her su- perior. "Ellen, stop!'' said Lady Brom- ley authoritatively ; "compose your- self, and e-xplain what has caused all this excitement. Has any ac- cident occurred ( Do you not see that you have greatly annoyed Mrs. Bryant by bursting in upon us iu this turbulent fashion 1" "I know, I know, and I hope you will forgive me, but I couldn't help it," said Ellen, still breathless and panting from excessive emotion ; "but I've found her! I've found her!" and sobs that were almost hysterical again choked her utter- ance. "You have found whom?" de- manded Lady Bromley, astonished, and beginning to fear that the girl had become suddenly deranged. "Oh! Miss Allison! Miss Brew- ster ! She isn't dead ! She wasn't killed ! She is out there in the street, and you must come and tell "the man that I know what I'm talking about," was the startling and incoherent reply. Her ladyship had become very pale while listening to this, for of course Ellen's wild words could not fail to send a terrible shock throughout her frame. She could not credit her siartling statement; still, the magnetism of her belief and excitement had its influence upon her, for she knew that^^l^thing very strange and un^[^^^B|^t have occurred to up- s^^^NH^Sigii an extent. She haJBInt the girl out upon ar, errant^or Mrs. Bryant about half an hour previous, and now It occurred to Lady Bromley that pos- sibly she might have seen some Ale upon the street who strongly re- sembled Allison, and so, knowing how she worshipped the memory of her lost benefactress, had been startled into the belief that she had really found her alive. "Stop, my child I" she said again, in a tone of kind command; "you are so nervous I cannot compre- hend your meaning. Now, try to tell me calmly what you mean by having seen Miss Brewster. Of course, you are mistaken. You may have met some one who re- sembles her, but it cannot be Alli- son herself. And who is the per- son whom you wish me to go and talk with?" "Oh, it is a man who is rolling her about in a wheel-chair. She is sick, and didn't know me, but I am sure she is my lovely, lovely Miss Allison," Ellen emphatically as- serted, still greatly excited and trying to pull Lady Bromley from the room. "Wait a moment, until I get a wrap," said her ladyship, and now visibly trembling herself. She al- most flew to her room, seized a seal wrap from her closet, and threw it over her shoulders, and then' went swiftly down-stairs after Ellen, who had again rushed below and out upon the street. When Lady Bromley emerged from the house she saw an elderly gentleman, with white hair and beard, standing quietly upon the sidewalk, while beside him in a luxuriously cushioned wheel-chair in which, well wrapped in soft, bright robes, there sat a beauti- ful girl, the sight of whom made the startled woman catch her breath .sharply and sent a wild look of mingled joy and horror into her eager eyes. The girl was indeed Allison's very ccunterpart. There were the same delicate, clear-cut, faultless features, the same bright, golden-crowned head, although the hair had been cut and now curled daintily all about her whit-e forehead ; there were the same great, beautiful blue eyes, and yet they were not the same, for there was a harrowing blank- ness in them which told but too plainly that reason had been de- throned, while the lovely face and form were thin almost to emacia- tion. The gentleman bowed courteous- ly as Lady Bromley went quickly down the steps to his side, her face alarmingly pale. "Madam, I trust you have not been needlessly disturbed or ex- cited," he observed, as he noticed her emotionr^'but this young girl," glancing at Ellen, who was gazing spell-bound at the figure in the chair, "met us at the corner yon- der, when she booamo almost fran- tic upon seeing my charge, whom she insisted she knew, calling her 'Miss .'Mlison' and 'Miss Brewster,' and weeping with joy over her dis- covery. Then she begged me to come hero with her to see a lady who, she said, would explain it all to me. She was so violently in ear- nest I was constrained to comply «ith her request." With her eyes wandering continu- ally from the speaker to his charge. Lady Bromley listened almost spell- bound to the above explanation. "Is â€" is she your <laughter?" she gasped, as he concluded. "No, madam, and a strange hope sprang up in my heart the moment this girl, upcjn meeting us, fell up- on her knees beside the carriage in a perfect esctasy of recognition and began to address my poor Alice. But, unfortunately, as you per- ceive, she is not in a condition to recognize any one, since an acci dent, several months ago, deprived her of her reason. "An accident! Ah!" breathed her ladyship, her heart leaping in- to her throat. "Oh, sir," she ad- ded faintly, while she put out her hand to steady herself by the stone post near which she was standing, "will you kindly tell mc about it? For, indeed, it is not strange that my maid should have been startled, as the young lady does resemble to a remarkable degree one who has king been regarded as dead by her friends." The gentleman lost color at this, and looked excited. "If," he said, "you will walk a block or two with me, I shall be very (lad to tell you all that I know regarding the poor chiV's history. I do not like to have her sit still here, for, although the day is unusually fine, Alice is still very ideilicart.e, and wc are exceedingly careful not to let her get chilled." "Certainly, I will accompany you," Lady Bromley replied. Then, turning to her maid, she added: "Ellen, go to my room and bring mc a hat." And the girl, with a sorrowful but adoring look at the invalid, darted away to do her bidding. She was back again in a few moments, when her mistress, hastily tying the hat upon her head, signified her readi- ness to move on, while Ellen reluct- antly went back into the house. "You called her Alice," Lady Bromley remarked, but with lips that were so rigid that it was with difficulty that she could articulate, (To be continued.) SMALL WAGES FOR WOMEN BEVEL.VriON OF THE "SWEAT- ING" SYSTEM IN LONDON. SudFacts Brought Out by u Poor Svauistrciiu'a AKeiupt ut Suicide. . A poor little seamstress attempt- ed suicide in London, England, re- cently. She jumped into the Thames and was ignominiously fish- ed out, not drowned and not in the least repentant. When questioned as to reasons for her act she had only one to give. She simply could not keep body and soul together by working her hardest at her trade, and in utter fatigue she had decid- ed to end her struggles. There was nothing very new in her story, but when she explained that she always had plenty of work to do, the only difficulty being to live on the prices paid for her lab- ors, London was roused from its apathy long enough to protest against the "sweating" of women thus revealed. The House of Lords once defined sweating as a condition under which work is carried on in unsanitary surroundings and for low wages. There are those who would add that it is a condition of labor which does not give the laborer, in return for a fair day's work, enough to maintain himself and his family in decency and cointort. In England it is women who are the greatest sufferers from sweat- ing. Their average wage, taking it all the year round and allowing for sickness and slackness, is not much more than $1.75 A WEEK. The Lancashire textile trade aver- age is $3.75 and in some districts as much as $6 ; but this compara- tively high rat^ is pulled down by the East End home worker, who earns anything from 62 cents to $1.10 a week. In the unskilled women's trades there is no standard by which wages are computed. For instance, one famous firm of cocoa manufactur- ers pay women filling bags with cocoa 28 cents a thousand bags, and exactly the same work is done for 16 cents for another firm. In East London there is a firm whose girls earn $3.50 a week by pack- ' small quantities. Sometimes she has worked with hardly any break FOR TWENTY HOURS, from 6 a.m. until 2 a.m. the follow- ing morning. The rent of the room iu Is. 6d. a week. "All this she told the Parlia- nxentary committee. The members of Parliament were aghast. Some were incredulous. "But how do you live, you and the child?" ask- ed one M. P. 'We don't live," the woman replied with a passion in her tone I had never heard before. 'Often we have no food at all.' " Miss Mac Arthur contends that goods are not sold any cheaper when made by sweated labor. She tells of a fur-lined motor coat mark- ed at $105 which was made for $1.88 by sweated labor and of a $5.25 night dress for which th'i home worker who made it for 5 centsâ€" 63 cents for a dozen of these night dresses. The employer of the girls who made these night dresses said he could not pay more as there was no profit in his traue. There are many persons who are struggling to organize and help the women workers of England. There is a .scheme for a trades board which shall fix a 1-egaI minimum wage, and there are other propositions which will help to do away with the present sweating system if they are ever put into practice. A QUESTION OF BALANCE. Tlic Persian Carriage Is a Cranky Conveyance. The kajarah, a travelling-carri- age of Persia, consists of two cage- like boxes, suspended one on each side of a mule. The interior of these boxes sometimes boasts a little low seat, but as a rule is innocent of any such luxury. In "Behind the Veil in Persia and Turkisii .Arabia," Mrs. M. E. Hume-Griffith tells of these carriages and of the troubl- ous experiences of their occupants. Two persons of about the same weight must sit one on each side, or the result is disastrous. I remember once being with a large caravan. In one of these kajarahs was travelling a govern- ment official and his wife. He was very tiny, she was quite the reverse, the result being that the little man was gnerally up in the air, while the opposite side of the kajarah was weighted down nearly to the ground. They made all manner of experi LONDON'S SMOKE PROBLE!«. It is Attributed to Open Firoii in the IIouioM. "The smoka problem of London is chiefly due to the domestic fire grate, and for that rca.son the con fcrence and exhibition held there in the winter of 1905 were produc- tive of little visible result. To an Englishman the open grate with its smoky flame is one of the most; essential features of his domestic happiness and comfort. | Unfortunately no modified form of open fire grate which will burn bituminous fuel without smoke has yet been devised, although many experiments have been made in thia direction. Since the American me- thod of heating rofjins by hot air or by steam pipes is unpopular ia England, and the coke or anthra- cite stove is equally unacceptable, the only hope that Lrondon may in time possess an atmosphere equal ill clearness to that of New Yorlt cr Berlin lies in the use of parti- ally coked fuels like coalite, or in the extended application of a cheap' gas for heating purposes. Progress is no doubt occurring in both these directions, says Cas- sier's Magazine, and this will grow more rapid as the supplies of these two forms of fuel are increased and cheapened The domestic smoke problem in fact not only in Lon- don, but in other large towns and cities of the United Kingdom is likely to be solved along these lines. ing tea. In the same locality there I ments in their endeavor to strike is another firm, the head of which i t^'** balance, gathering stones and is a well known sportsman and yachtsman, where the earnings of the girls average only $1.78 a week. The manager of a tinplato factory recently fixed time rates at $1.5i;a week for his women workers and ln> openly gave tin; reason that they had taken advantage of piecework rates to make too much. Some had earned $4 ! The average wage paid to wait- depositing them in the higiier side, tying hags of fuel to the outside of the kajarah, but all of no avail. At last, in disgust and anger, the woman jumped out without giving her husband any warning. The re- sult, to the onlookers, was ludicr- ous. The wife refused all that day again to enter the kajarah, pre- ferring to walk, till one of the mule- teers offered her a scat on the top *""- â€" â- -•â€" o^ •• "O'- 1^"*^ i/v^ "Uii/- y p fill 1 iÂ¥ resses in tea shops or restaurants 1^^ ""^' ?' *-''*' l^aKgap '""'es- Her SHE CAN'T BE BOTH. It's not possible for a cow to be a remarkaole success along two lines at the same time. She can't make milk and meat from the same feed. It's an impossibili^. throughout the country does not exceed $2.50 a week. On this the girls must keep up a neat and well dressed appearance. Then wages are likely to be interfered with and even if "necessary" rcducd. Many firms don't pretend to pay their girls a living wage. Tliij head of a large company was ask- ed recently how he expected the girls in his employment to live on $1.50 a week. "1 don't expect it,'' he answered. "Immediately we hear that a girl has lost her father or that she has no outside means of support she ij discharged." This same firm employs what it culls "halt day waitresses." They work from 11.30 a.m. till 6.30 p.m. for $1 a week. ALL TIPS ARE FORFEITED. The lot of the home worker is the worst of all. Miss Mary Mac- Arthur, secretary of the Women's Trade Union League, gave a pic- ture of the home worker in the East End in an interview. "So terrible is their life that I wonder that they take the trouble to exist at all," she said. "Here is a single room in a Stepney slum. The furniture consists of a table, a chair and a bed. The unfinished trousers at which the woman stitch- es serve as a blanket at night. "She slaves from daybreak until her eyes fail, and she never cams more than five shillings a week. She sustains herself mainly, al- most entirely, upon weak t«a. Some days she drinks fourteen cups, mak- ing the same tea leaves do serivco again and again. That is one of the women slaves of England, and there are thousands in similar plight. "I know many women who make men's shirts at Is. or 9d. a dozen. I have even found the actual work- er making at 8d. a dozen shirts which had originally been given out at Is. a dozen. "There is a girl in Woolwich. She has one child, aged 2 years, entirely depcDdent upon her. She is a shirt fin if her and does button- ing and buttonholing by hand. She is paid 58. a dozen for collars. Re- member, this is high class work. Cotton costs her from 3d. to 4d. a week. Her average earnings are 4s. 8d. a week, or from %d. to %d. an hour. "Every day she has to spend an hour aod a half in fetching her work, OS it is only given out in husband was soon balanced with stones picked up liy the wayside, and travelled for the rest of that day in peace and comfort. At the end of the stage, however, his wife wnuld not speak to him or cook his dinner for him, and the man came to one of my husband's as- sistants, and begged biin to act as mediator, lilven among Moslems there are some strong-minded wo- men. I have travolleti many miles in one of these kajarahs, and found them very comfortable and restful, even after riding for hours. When travelling by night, I have slept for hours at a stretch in one of these kajarahs, the steady, measur- ed walk of the mule favoring slum- i ber. Sometimes, however, the | monotony is broken by the mule i suddenly dropping to its knees, and you find yourself deposited on the POOR OLD ilACHELOB. In Tlnic of Illness Haeiielur is Dit- Icrenl Being. The bachelor, whether man or woman, has a maguifieent time in days of pliysicial well-being. Then j he or she e.\ults unkindly over mar- j ried friends who cannot go whither I they will or do what they will, or who must of necessity consult the I claims of others in the important; matters of meals ajid hours. Bufei when illness comes â€" say a nastyl attack by that unprincipled fiend in-' fiuenza â€" the lonely rnnn suffers. There is no one to bother him witJi inquiries which may be irrelevant, but are always tender ; no one to seo he is supplied with foixl every hour whether he wants it or not, to bring him the papers, and t.) put violets on his dressing-table ; no one to pat his pillow, to bathe his head with eau de cologne, and tell him he is a darling old sham, not half as bad as he pretends. The only subject to occupy his mind is bis own miser- able condition, and the stupidity of the hireling .lames, who will forget to keep up his fire. The bit of sole he fancied for dinner was swim- niing in grease, and he nearly wept when that big idiot, wlio never does more than he is told, could not find him a clean pocket -handkorchiof. The baelielUir, free as air, enjoying the amiiscincuts of life, is a tot.ally. different person from the bn<'helor oroiidu'd iu an ea.sy-chair, wishing in vain for somebody to come and look after him. Men who own cicof rie plants ar« satisfied with light harvests. ground, shot out from a bow. like an arrow i I'lUST HAT WEARERS. BogiiiiiinK of Custom- Obliged by Law to >Voar Woollen Cap. 1 Charles 'VII on his triuiupliaiii entry into Houcn in the year 111!), ' we are told, astonished the whole city by appearing in a hat lined with red silk and surmounted by a plume of feutliers. It was the first time the citizens had ever seen a '• hat, says the London Chronicle. ; From the entry of Charles's into ; Rouen the beginning of the custom ! of wearing hats in Europe is dated. | It was all very well for the rich | citizen to follow the example of roy- 1 alty, but when the clergy began to | sigh for similar splendor it was re ; gardcd as a falling away from grace. : Priests or religious persons were at last forbidden to appear abroad in , anything except "chaperons made j of black cloth with decent coro- i nets." j A still more striking development \ took place in the sixteenth century. | By the statute of 13 Elizabeth every i person above the age of 7 years, ' and under a certain degree, was obliged on Sundays and holidays to ! "wear a woollen cap â€" made in Eng- ] land and finished by some of the fraternity cappers," under the pen- j alty of three snillings fourpence for ' every day's neglect. 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