FL Orange color is in high favor isms. | T:I'illl1;ftl)’ shaded Autumn have: and? timier in velvet and Cl’lrfllllrt trim the: lotus b-simusnid fats from Paris div; signs. I The newest "js 'k'l'.’=l.€8" fur children's user: are made of tiny bags of si.k. about an ii eh and a half long, tilli-c .1111 rice 5 or shot. i What are called lace dresses will be in 5 grezt \'u gue again. the beauty of the mod- ern machine products and their c im- ; parative cheapnels producing finer ef- l iects fora given amount than can be ob- ’ tairgdvin any other way. (bibliï¬mo there are two leading typcs of dress skirt: the one plain on the front and sides, with all the fulmss thrown back; the other the full skirt pleated ori gathered all around. the grater fulness, l of wt“. .at the back. These totally. ‘ different reigns are equally popular, and . of the Excelsior Hotel a man stood look- dcpcnd entirely on the figure of the wear- ing out upouthe scum before himâ€" not 3 er, the matemls emplOyed, and the style very interesting one at any time, but now duped, dreurier than usual, owmg to the slush Tailled silk serge, which is a mixture “d “Nd came“ by the melting 300"- of silk a id wool, is a good looking and, The bowl 3‘9“! in a “n3†“lure in , . . . . , v , _ has i. l -x naive mazeiill for "no 0' thL (lulu-er ‘l “"61â€! Of 1138 y ?.:ï¬pi.z::e ab}? 33;; in “many whim little town, a square where s. miscellan. (what there is of it, which is not much), {coils market .was held twice a month, tha wool black, brown. or dark gray; and he†l’w‘l-‘l‘ml’i 010311â€, boot! and it is ms'de'up over a silk skirt. frontq or V W lshoes, crorliery. and various other neces- i’or facing the collar and cuffs; also for: the bow, if a bow is employed for the VOL. X I I. SIDN EY’S FULLY CHAPTER XXIX. At one of the windows of the ï¬rst floor V saries of life ware sold to the country-folk , who on ï¬ne days mustered pretty strong- . ‘ly. “(21" d To-day howcv.r the market was dull ; whim“ "001‘ m†been ‘1‘ "8 a:sellors were cold and cross and sullen, The" are mum†“v.6- - buyers few and far between: therefore ii; the ‘ioucb, gentle and healthful in; , Imp , k t [A m 3 ad their inilucvces Few, know. however, i 1'1"“. ‘ l’ m†8. “95â€â€ f" r“ er a ' “ ' . i I ll“ (1 - I 'Eï¬au’ 85 cc... What m!" ‘nd Du"? WOUI {any 1†fur the Buhgihdkebii dirk peyes of the man mill iii".iii."£§.i.2’a"“ v3.23. stigma? 33m no; ' . ‘ ' I. ,eeilteuness. twasue ul‘u “g’l’llu‘if‘bnc‘ .1? th;:)%?fctztgt:’rtgg those eyes to note everything w.th quick t 0’†“ “in?†, 5 d m. .t yet quiet. aluhuull; and almost every- bwl" B h " "re y :6 31 ‘ u? ‘3 ,rhing possessed some interest. for them. Illelï¬ll’ï¬l' and “h†we 0 l‘ cu†‘8 Not that they had any special interest. in “3" "‘9' . :ho market; but. they were trained to ob- Sucb tailor-made mill Mi“? 1“ Prepn‘ i servatiou, and could not refrainfrom tak- ration are box plum}! 01‘ 11nd N 0111310“ , ing notes. of side pleats with Wide box pleating b. - - [n appearance the man was short and tween. This “WNWâ€! “"3 “hon, “M1 “W t thin and dr. stud in the extreme of fash- drziped to one side, and the short. cn-zit'ion.’ [utidLU-nycd the packages of goods bodice is either buttoucdover at: the side, , placml mom, «mm;- of u“, aigti,,g.mmn or1 iridieuwuli lf;\'z‘;3 acid 3:21? a gig: ‘ u}, piove lto iii-1.; luilidtlprttl ind waiters of Win: 1 s in c P?†' "5 ' :19 nice sun- on: a c was a coni- l-mn- 14333 30‘“ m“ Plflu‘lu and the mcrcml ll'th‘liUl'. His attire and his means of grace. ly ‘ 4 mounting were often of velvet; this year the wool is very stylishly combined With a darker shade of the material, or with wool upon which there are rs and velvet or embroidered figures. The plainncss of street dress for. seve- ral ytiirs past. has really developed its ex- ccllcnco. The money that was formerly spent. on trashy trimmings which made the wearers hideous or ridiculous is now put into substantial fabrics, into hand. some linings and superior workmanship. There is no hotter evidence needed of the improvumcnt which is gradually tak- ing place in street dress than the contrast. fictive-on what. was and what. is even among the by no means exclusive throng that iills the shops and sidewalks. With the approach of Autumn there is great activity in cloth and woolleiis, and an unusually early diiiiand for Fall suits, caused doubtless by the cool Summer which has prevented many ladies from even unpacking their lightest urcssi-s. It is less it question now than formerly whether Certain fabrics and designs are lll: newest. that stage of common some where a cer- Wo have at. last arrived at} manner Were q iiw sufficient. to betray his UCLllp-lllull ; .ind tin-y had had no doubt. as t.) in from the time of his arrival in Asbford on the prekus evening. He had been wary firm liar also, and free with his money. and was of an inquisitive turn of mind, usn'llli; several questions of the pretty chatty chiixiibi-rmuid as to the rich people of the neighbourhood. His mur- chnndise was rich. valuable 01d lace, he said, and only lad-es of fortune and fash- ion Would be likely io purchase from him; indt c l he had iiii sippiintineiit- in the morning with a l...ly who lived in the neighbourhood ,wiin had been kind enough , to say that slit) would. Call at: the hotel and linspt of his goods. i As he stood a: the window in his careless I c- incl-inplativo attitude, he seemed neither E hurried normirious, and totally indifferent v' t l the passage of time ; and there was no i txplt-Bï¬lull on his face, save one of good- . natured interest in tho moody holders of stalls iii the market and the rare purchas- ers of articles from them. He showed neither especial intcrcst nor recognition as a lady came into the square from a small street on the right and Walked swift- ly towards the hotel; but. something like tam fitness is taken for granted, and. gzir- ' a glmm of admiration shot into the keen moms may be brought. Without. waiting to i contemplative dark eyes_ sue the last fashion plate, provided they suit the Hanson and preserve harmony of tuna. Slrit silks: arc uscd for dressing pur- poses and show some charming combi- nations of color. visiting and dinner (1 in tin: iliiiln-ut iiliade o the ground" llllll. it; can not. survive lontr cllcsli‘il. ' Misti-ii, on those who possess a well- rouudud figure. a charm that. is. certainly display on with best advantage in a 11 perfectly fitting corsage. v--~ .._t . ’lln' lilllll‘llilol' Flslici'lcs. TLc failure of the Labrador fishery tho most. serious, we have bad in_ that (lultl'n r lnl’ many years. The luaniity of coiziili Rake“, on a moderate calculation, will be one-half below the average. After toiling all tho summer. numbers are now returning homo with but. miserable ru~ turns for their labors, and doubt have sl- HleL iutiiiiig to Slit)". lii such case, wlivro there is a liCL‘tEDlâ€"y, the all; plying merchant makes advances to enable the poor fillierinitii to pull through the long “llilt‘l‘. \Vlieru absolute dcstituuon ex iszs g .wrtinient aid is given in the shape of pl‘uvwlnlis. it is bclievtd. however, trial. ll.0 number of cost-s l’ulul lug such am will not be great. A man (if-war is shortly to be dispatched with supplies on luultl for wine of the more dostiiuta lo- Caiitius Ill White bay and southern Lab- rulir. 'l‘o mid to the distress, cum-titer- it do losses among the fishing craft. have Ddsll sustaintd iii cuiisuiucnci of the stormy weather which has ptt:\‘nllt‘\l The s miner litriiilts, Ill her return “’01†the lib-ll selVlcu ull llabiuler brought the cf; N8 of right. \‘envls which had been WluLkLIl, and ins obliged Lu lwvo it large number of others boiiind from the want. “11mm; on board. Assurance has b:en A vessel tllqidic’litlkl Lu Liivsu sullorurs. naim-dthc Lady Jane, having buy two mills on fhisl’\l. many of than women and childim, \ n her return irom Labra- dirt, struck .i rock and bccauiv leaky and uiunauagmi-m. Win n inmost. sinking, aiiizlisr, the Flamingo, bore down upon her and tank off the crow and [Mangers after terrible null-stings. Selduln has Worse weather llcttli caporioiicul . ii I.“ built-r than tlils season. .\ nu ‘CL‘M-Ull of stern“ destroyed the prospects of the her- n: g llsliul’)‘, jar. a: too time when has rug- had struck in abundantly. articie this year been the zit-.ivii-st experienced in twenty years.- } alonuoal Usziue. q¢uo~ -« Wu After the iii nruosii. A. thitwu the ugr \‘s in Barludocs ar‘mou upon. and ourgluirs iuu fre- quent, «paisly u. llw smaller lit-uses. A could-lab “is aim...“ imp «thin to par tune ll’vm them, and ii Slit" gr; llil‘u one ‘i tluty will letep it mean. Tiicir mule o prucriiliug on such we M lvl ula'. llaVlt g t “’0' ‘t ‘ WC“ 5"“ (“Ti “'3‘ lw'cl'v l’“ l “Do you wish me to tell you what I hang They are made up for’ [31 l becoming as it is to tho flat and narrow? lt is wasted. and more than: i is "P Libra- drr herring: will be a scarce and dear tine storm in particular which csuiut damage is reported to have owners, I am tout 1’ i‘ ‘3' *1 w w"): l he askzd abruotly, looking at her licenl7. ity. I But, if the appearance of the lady ar- oused no surprise in the breast of the man at the hotel window, it caused some excitement among the stall-keepers, for it. waszi. very unusual one in that. quiet. square. Closely veiled as she was, there “35513. With VCIVGM ware an elegance and a. richness in her f silk and lace. Al-l most. all dresses are now nuidc with tlio‘ full fronts and the style is 3;: “run into? dress, which was perfectly simple, which could not. fail to strike them, and, as she walked on quickly, there was a refinement, a grace in her gait which would have at- tracted attention even without the costly sealskin and furs. The commercial traveller. or rather G. Hopgood of Scotland Yardâ€"for it was all! lieâ€"turned away from the window, pulled one of his packages from the comer of the room, and wtis busily unstrapping it upon the table when the chambermaid cued the door and announcedâ€" “A lady-for you, sir;â€nnd Sidney Daunt ' closely veiled, entered. Mr. I'Iopgood bowed low, desisting ini- mediater from his occupation, and his visitor inclined her head slightly: then, as the door closed upon the clianibet'mnid, she came forward slowly to the table and threw up her veil. “You wished to see me, Mr. Hopgoodl" she said quietly. “Yes, madam," he answered; “I have i some exquisite specimens of old lace here i which 1 shall be happy to show you.†He spoke in rather a raised tone, and, walking softly across the room, he noise- lesslv returned to his place by the table. “It. is always best tube on the safe side,†he said quietly, noticing Siilney's glance of surprise. “0110 never can be quite learn that: the doors have not. care and ' eyes.†“Truc,"aliu returned briefly. Gliuicing at, her furtivcly as ho toyed with the straps fastening the goods that ho professed to wish to sell, the change in her appearance struck him almost with as much sorrow and surprise as it had Lloyd Milner. Even hcr swift walk through the cold air had not brought any colour to the thin checks, any light to the dim eyes, while her manner was charact- erlscd by the same composure and entire want of Ollllitl'fll which had struck Lloyd Milncr an hour previously. "Have you any special news to give mel" she asked, in a low measured tono, refusing by a gesture the chair that. he placed for her, and not raising her eyes to his as sh; szood by the table, resting her little gloved hand upon it. “That. is a superfluous question, after all, since you would not. have asked me to meet. you here had you not. something to communi- cate." “You are right, madam,†he answered, with some significance in his voice, quiet. as it was. “I should not. have troubled you had I not wished to see you. I thought," he added, “that. you would rather come here than that. I should wait upon you at Euthorpc." "It did not much matter," she said somewhat wearily. “I this morning however. Have youâ€"have you discovired anythingl" she added, leaning heavily against the table as she inked the question. “What do you with ms to say, madam)" l i it. hi ad LlJlt‘llll wing, and-niritlie uu. and“.qu m. d" “,u and" fortunate iii-l riuiid and round in the 'l‘ie rtuultoi this (n l 1.4“ orig!) u that the bin rennin: lifeless, and is Ii-hout . SAT u ur the or six titan. wag-ii. and appsrxniiy the. rally Iluaul away iris bag dangtr of inconvenient duckling it ago 4: Liar boiler! only that inth a: facade \ilflC'J-‘hl, for they upsu each other. Every ut does is ins-lo curious old iii-cum out of the windows u the annulus u a sum are on their guard-l m t mllarba pray tiludl)‘ 3 humus by the W30 of o W’ mum-W At the unexpic'cl interrogstcry lbs lurked at him luddcnly sith great quest- inning eyes full of surprise and fear. llad it not been immpouible for her to row paler than she already was. he would are thought that tho colourless cheek had taken a yet more asben has. A: it was, he hurriedly puahml a chair towards her. She did not take it, but stood fac- ing him, her eyes tired upon his impanivo has; and there was silence between them for some minutes. The detective, with some ity andompenion now u n etqui see, was the tint tobnsak f: f l perfcrred coming , l through me. hisâ€"â€" lly Space silenceâ€" ‘y “Mrs. Daunt,†he said gravely, “when [had the honour of my ï¬rst interview with you, the clearing up of the mystery which surrounds tho murder of Mr. Rut- ' ledge was a matter very near your heart. It may be that since that time circumstan- - ces have arisen which have altered your, wishes. Pray sit. down,"he added hastily, : seeing that. for a moment she swayed ; backwards as if about to fall; but she re-i covered herself immediately. § “No, no,"she said hurriedly,“l am not' ill; but 1 do not quite understand," shel went on, trying to brave it out, although her dread was so great that she could . hardly force her white lips to frame the words. , “Are you sure you do not understand, me, Mrs. Dauutl" he asked, seeing, not-f withstanding all her efforts, the agony of dread she was suffering, and pitying her: as he had rarely pitied any one in his? self-contained eventful life. There was no ansWer. "It seemed to me during that ï¬rst in- tervzew," he went on quietly, not looking ather no v, but. speaking withhis eyes ï¬xed upon the table, “that. you wished to obtain evidence of Mr. FrankGreville'sï¬nnocence at any cost; and since then I have been devoting what. little skill and experience I possess to that end." “And you have succeeded?†she breath- ed, r ither than uttered. “I have succeeded, madam." His Voice was very quiet, very calm, very signiï¬cant; but he did not. look at, her as he spoke, or he would have seen how swiftly the little gloved hand went. to her bosom as she sank down upon the chair she had hitherto rejected, looking at. him With wild, terriï¬ed eyes. All her terror was conï¬rmed now. This man had deteced her husband's guilt; he had found out. the fact of his absence from the ball-room with Sibyl Rutledge; he had discoveredâ€"how she could not guess~that he had been in the avenue that; night. He would arrest him perhaps and it would be her fault, through her means! Oh, merciful Heaven, have pity, and let her die before that came to passl Her only hope now was to show the detective her entire belief in Stephen’s innocence, and try to prove to him that lie was on a false scent. She must not let him think for a moment that, she sus- pected her husband. She must. hide it from him, and tell him that she did not; wish the Inquiry pursued, because she had changed her mind, she no longer wished to prove Frank‘s innocenceâ€"he had wished her to give up the attempt. “I am quite sure that; you have been very skilful and careful," she said, in a low calm voice,but. in a. tone so strangely hollow that, he almost started as it fell up- on his ear; "but: since I saw you my in- terest in the matter hasâ€"has faded. I think iiiâ€"it would be a pity to reopen the matter. Mr. Greville and his daugh- ter have suffered greatly; but the sting of their suffering has subsided, and it; Would only reopen wounds which Iâ€"I believe are partly healed." Partly healed! Remembering Chrissic's passionate sorrow, her despairing cryâ€" “I cannot die happy unless his innocence is proved"-â€"â€"Sidney hated herself for the falsehood; but she would have ventured even more in her desperate hopeless wish to show this man that. he was mistaken, that; Stephen was not. guilty. “The wounds will hardly be healed un- til the cause of them is removed,†he said gravely. “ Butâ€"bub Frank Grovillo himself wishes that no more trouble should be taken in the matter,â€she rejoined hurried- l . y“How can you tell that, madam?" he asked quickly. “Because I have seenâ€"," she began promptly, but felt-cred and paused, the words dying away on her white lips as she saw what she was admitting. “Ir. will hardly be safe for Mr. Frank Greville to remain any time in this neigh- bourhood," he said gravely. “whatever disguises he has assumed, or may assume, until, of Course, the guilt of another is proved.†The room, with its somewhat dingy hangings of crimson damask, its worn carpet. and hard mahogany chairs, whirled round and round before Sidney’s failing eyes, and the detective’s voico sounded strangely muflled and distant in her ears; but she did not faint; her nerves seemed strung to their highest tension. Her one desire was to deceive her companion and to induce him to give up the search. “Mr. Hopgood,†she said faintly, “I have undertaken ii task whick is beyond my strength. I thought I should like to prove the innocence of an old friend; but. I ï¬nd the task too hard, even with your assistance.†“Am I to understand that you wish me to discontinue the inquiry, madam?" he asked gravely. “If you please,"slio answered, is a volce so low as to be almost inaudible. “And to make no use of the information I have acquired?" “Yes"â€"low and faintly spoken still. “And you expect me to comply with your wish, and let. an innocent man bear the stain of a crime of which he is inno- cent‘l" he said quietly. Sidney looked up suddenly, unable at the moment to conceal her intense terror and dread; and she needed no second look to show her that he knew allâ€"there was so much pity and compassion on his face as it was turned towards her. “You are mistaken in your suspicions l I know the proofs are against him, bu:â€"" “Against whoml" he asked. “Against the person you suspect," she said wildly, clasping her hands ; “but he is innocent, quite innocent! Have you 0 pity 7" she added, leaning forward on the table and looking at him with untreat- ing eyes. “He is innocent; and yet if he i should be accused, it till be through 1110â€" 1 “Mrs. Daunt"â€"â€"he interupted quick-; , raising his hand impressively mini-i ‘ ou ask me if I have so tell you that lnsll my experience 5 have never felt truer pity than I feel, g now. ‘ tress. You have no need of my now; ; the matter. My interact. in it ceuu from , 'thii intuian No harm has been dune, I thlnk. l have told on nothlng. What you have guessed, w concernof mine. You may be sure of one i thing-that, unless you all my aid again, i I will take no further steps in the matter; nor will 1 make use of the information I have obtained." “You will noti“ the falterui, over- worud by the sudden revulsion of feel- ; andlooklng athimwith wild startled i ‘ have sufferred since that. horrible suspicion ' this past night has been, you would know 1 anguish. l , But there is no need for your dir‘ services} then-fore l have no more to do with, t you suspect, is no ‘ FENELON FALLS, ONTARIO, SATURDAY, NOV. 29, 1884 eyes. “Youâ€"0h, Heaven bless your Compassioni Oh, sir, if you knew how I came into my mind, if you knew what in some degree what my gratitude is! l have been wretchedâ€"at least, I thought I was wretchedâ€"many times, but Inever knew what real misery was until then. Ah, it is horrible," she broke outâ€"“hor- rible to think of all the evil she wrought j list to gratify a whim or a foolish ambi- tion. which, having gratiï¬ed, she found would not satisfy her! Heaven only knows the ruined lives which may be laid to her charge, the unhappiness, the Mr. Hopgood’,â€"spesking with a forced calmness almost as painful to wit- ness as her passionate painâ€"‘ ‘in your in. quiries you found no clue to her where- abouts?" There was an intense repressed eager- ness under her calmness, which the detective perceived; and he was too acute and keen an observer not to guess at its cause. He thought what a. strange being a woman was, since she could more easily forgive a man she loved for having mur- dered another man than for havingbetray- ed her for another woman. “No,†he said gravely, “I found no clue to her whereabouts; and in my opin- ion, Mrs. Daunb, that is one of the strangest. features in the case. Neither of the two persons whom I suspected," he added, turning his eyes from her eager face, “has any present: communication with her; of that I am certain.†“Thank you," she returned faintly; and there was a short silence in the dingy ho- tel sitting-room, during which Sidney struggled to regain command over her- self. When sbe rose from her seat, she had resumed the marble composure which had struck him upon her entrance. “You have no more to say to me?" she said steadily. “Then I need detain you no longer. May I ask how muchâ€"besides thanksâ€"ah, many and heartfelt thanksâ€" I am indebted to you, Mr. Hopgoodl†“You owe me nothing,†he answered, stufï¬ngâ€"“nothing. The chepue you sent; has more than repaid me, Mrs. Daunii. It is 1 who am, indebted to you.†“Thank you,†she repeated; and in a strange mechanical way, like that; of a person moving in a dream, she moved towards the door. Then she paused, and looked around in a. puzzled, bewildered sort of way, as if she knew that; she had forgotten something. “There is some- thing,†she said, in a strange husky voice. but: 1 cannot remember whatâ€"unlessâ€" Yesâ€"I have not: said good morning.†Something in her face and manner touched the detective and made his bow very respectful, and there was a strange unwonted dimness in the keen dark eyes as they watched her go which had rarely visited them during their thirty years of keen observation of the follies and foibles and crimes of humanity. 1 _ c gawk; xxx. Meanwhile "6:- .ilner, his heart-â€" is usually as we : ited an organ as a barristcr’s neat, ,seâ€"Jirobbing fast with love and hope, was travelling as swiftly as Stephen’s'grsy mare could carry him War the road from Easthorpe to Lambswold. the painful impression which his inter- view with Sidney had made upon him faded as soon as he had left her. He was too absorbed in the pleasure of life’s young dream, and in his anxie‘y as to Mr. Dsunt's reception of his suit, to re- member the strangeness of her manner and her earnest broken words. And even if,to suppose an impossibility, her father were willing to give his con- sent, to allow his daughter to marry a poor man for the reason that she loved him and he loved her, would it be wise to accept such a sacriï¬ce? \Vould it not. bring with it. a punishment in Dolly’s dis- content st her narrower surroundings? Would it not be terrible to him to see her unhappy and ill at ease and dissatisï¬ed in her humbler home, to see her beauty fade and her sweet bright disposition alter in her new life? Thinking thus, he reached Lambswold in a very dospondcnt and depressed state of mind. All Sidney's cheerful prophe- cies were in Jrgcd in his own dismal fore- bodings as he entered the stately hall where every evidence of wealth served only to enibitter his reflections and to make him feel more hopeless as to the re- sult of his suit. Mr. Dau'it; was at homo, a servant told him; he was in the library; and Lloyd was preparing to join him there, feeling that he ought. not; to see Dolly until he had received her father's verdict, when a slender little ï¬gure clad in black velvet, the broad square linen collar edged with embroidery round the throat adding con- siderably to the picturesque quaintncss of its appearance, camellghtly and swiftly down the wide oaken staircase. At sight of it all Lloyd Milner's resolves and fore. bodings melted into thin air ; and he went forward eagerly to meet Dolly with a love-light in his gray eyes and a bright smile which were certainly not in accord- ance with the dismal view he had been taking of his love-affair, since he had turned his horse's head towards Lambs- wold. Nothing lovelier than little Dolly. with her shy smiles and shycr blushc-, could have been imagined-certainly the oung barrister had never seen any ore half so lovely. “ I will take Mr. )Iilncr to papa," she said to the servant, who bowed and dis- appeared ; and then Dolly looked up or. pcctantly into her lover's admiring but disturbed countenance. “ What is the matter 2" she asked co- quettishly. “ You do not look very pleased to see me. There is nothing wrong at Easthorpc, is there 1" she added eagerly, her voice changing in quick anxicty. " Sidney is not ill l “Noâ€"afloat I think not, in some embarrassment. “l saw her this morning. and she said she was not ill; but she looks very pale and delicate. Dolly, she sent you her love and spoke so kindlyâ€"may. I dare hardly tell you all she said." " Why not I" Dolly said shyly. They were standing by the great hall ï¬re now, and he was looking tenderly and ‘ sadly down at the prztty piczuresqnc little figure in black velvet. “ Because I feel that I have not acted ‘ u an honest and honorable man should," he answered gravely. “ Dolly, when I spoke to you last night, I forgot. the great. difference in our positionsâ€"1 forgot that I was â€"â€"-" “ You have forgotten something indeed this morning," she said reproachfully. “ You have forgotten that you said you l l l " hcsnswercd, 5 lace- loved me, and that Iâ€"I 10m axld._-_ll “ I shall never forget that," he answer- e:l softlyâ€"“ never! If I live to be an old man, I shall always remember those words until my dying day, and they will always give me the same great pleasure. the same intense happiness 2 Dolly. if my love for you were less than it is, I should not be so fearful of your father’s reception of my suit. As it is, I am â€"†“Very foolish," Dolly put in gravely and reprovingly. “Come into the library now, and you will see that. papa is not such a terrible personage.†“ Mrs. Dsunt gave me anote for him," loyd said, as they crossed the hall to- gether ; “and, Dolly, I think it will be well if you could go and see her to-dsy. She seems very much depressed and out of spirits." “ I will go this afternoon," Dolly ari- swered, as she opened the library door; and they entered the stately old room together. Mr. Daunt was sitting at a writing fable covered with letters and papers of various kinds. He looked up as Dolly appeared, his grave absorbed face soften- ed into a sudden tender smile, which faded again almost immediately, and was replaced by a grave but kindly look of in- quiry as the two young people arms up to the table together. The next moment Dolly’s white arms were round his neck and her sweet lips close to his car, and she was whispering something there which made her father know that; the little daughter whom he had hitherto thought. of more as a child to be pettod than as a woman had not only won the young man's love, but had given her own in return. His disappointment at Dolly’s choice was of the smallest. He might have wish- ed thnt Mr. Milncr’s position had heat more assured; but he was an honorable, frank, manly young fellow who would 3 on, i l l l l makoagood husband, and, since Dolly ‘1 loved him,they would be happy together. Stephen had a. very high opinion of him, Mr. Dsunbknew,andlicâ€"Mr. Dauntâ€"had a very high opinion of his son’sjudgmcntz ; so his consent was warmly and cordially given, and Lloyd's forcbodings were for ever dispersed in the sunshine brought: about by the fulfilment: of Sidncy’s pro- phecics. “ And now suppose you go and tell mamma, Dolly," said her father gravely, with a little gleam of mischief in his grave eyes nevertheless. Dolly’s bright face fell. “ Ob, papa l" she exclaimed,so ruefully that Mr. Danni; could not; repress a. smile. “ \Vell, I will go,†he said, with a slight shrug of the shoulders. “ Perhaps you can persuade Lloyd to stay a few days with us here,†he added, turning back as he was leaving the room. “ I shall be very glad if he can manage to do so.†But all Dolly's pretty pleadings and on- trcsties were of no avail ; sorely against his will, Lloyd's professional engagements obliged him to be ï¬rm in his refusal to remain at Lambswold. Dolly poutcd, looked vexed, pleaded and coaxedin vain. He must go, he said; and, although his ï¬ancee was vcry much inclined to rebel at this, perhaps the ï¬rst serious opposition to her wishes she had ever cncountercd, she loved and respected him all the more for not being as was to her touch. (To us CONTINUED.) Flower Oniiiinentiiiion. It. is several years now since flowers have been used extensively for dress or- namentation, and it is still a problem whether they will ever find the old-time prestige fully restored. Several causes have operated to put artiï¬cial flowers in the backgroundâ€"one is the fact. that they are artificial, and the modern rage for the natural, and the preference felt for rib- bon ornamentation in conjunction with lace on account. of its greater durability; and third, the beauty and availability of the now ornaments in delicate enamel and , imitation precious stones, in conjunction with groups of small feathers, whose effect upon corsage or drapery was found very graceful and alluring. Besides all i these causes, natural flowers have been used of late years to an extent hardly possible to estimate, but which has quad- rupled the receipts of the florist, and made flower culture one of the most lu- crative of modern occupations. There are evidences, however, of revival in the ar- tificial florist’s art ; more skill and enter- prise are shown in following the varyiti I fancies of the day, in regard to the kind of flowers used and their mounting, and sense and taste are shown in confining the use of artificial flowers to the evening, to ball and party dressing, occasions when whatever is worn is subject to the influences of artificial heat and light, and such air as exerts an instantly depressing effect upon natural flowers. A beautiful lace ovcrdrcss upon white satin was caught and draped most gracefully at. a recent cntert'iinmcnt with sprays of white lilac. A black tullo dress over black sat- in was panelled with white lilacs, in a line upon one side of the skirt. Large the roses in their leaves are exquisitely mounted for use upon pale yellow tullc and satin. the roses sometimes showing artificial flies in blucand pearl enamel. A novel arrangement of flowers is to plsco them in diagonal lines betwoen pulliiigs of satin or lace upon the lower front. of the skirt, or in single flowers, with leaves, M n border in the ruching at the foot. The latest style of ornament for the hair and corsage consists of one or more very large pink crushed roses, arranged with small feather tipsand fronds, white, pink, or blue, the fronds always white, an en- ,ainclcd fly or dragon-fly on the edge of i the rose. Those are lovely for the opera, with white, Nile green, or pink satin and, They are not. suitable for simple 3 ,(lrccscs. i from wear upon the bodice, because they prasisi no perfume, but they work if charmingly as artificial flower sets, wit small ferns. The most fashionable of all the new sets comprises an Anne of Aus- tria belt, a cordot for the skirt, and a c bouquet for the corsaga. Yellow of: line, but. the moment the bout is lifted ‘liquld recommended, a ls l ll'estern Girls. A young girl, pretty and modest. with a title on her shoulder is not a strange sight in these parts, writes a oorrespodcnt, from California to the New York Sun. Many young women in the far west are very proï¬cient in the use of firearms, and no one thinks it. strange to see them thus equiped on the highway or in the moun~ tains hunting. In nothing is the western freedom from conventionslism more striking than in the latitude given young women in their amusements. The typical far western girl would doubtless shock her more sub. I duod sisters of the east in many things which llt‘h.) are considered within the bounds of propriety. She hunts, fishes, camps out, rides, and tramps, with all the relish shown by the sterner sex, and in not: a few of these accomplishments is she the equal of any of the men. Visitors from the cast unfamiliar with pastimes of this kind have often been seriously em- barrassed on ï¬nding that their charming companions of the parlor or the lawn could load and shoot a gun as well as a rifleman, mount and ride like a trooper, or climb mountains with untiring limb. A few weeks ago a plump young wo- man in this town who rides, hunts, fishes, and climbs, had her photograph taken in her fresh air costume and sent: one of them to relatives in Illinois. The por- trait exhibited a girl of 18, with a jaunty turban, her long hair done up tightly in a coil, her face full and fair, and her eyes bright its dollars. IIer dress was tight- litting at the waist and sleeves, of dark. servicablo material, and the skirt coming just below the knees, failed to meet the tops of her high-buttoned boots by seve- ral inches. It" was as pretty a picture of health, vivacity, and beauty as one would tire to see. but the relatives in the east were profoundly shocked, and, in ac- knowledging the receipt of the portrait uietly hinted that. they would like to know what the occasion was which do- miindcd the young lady to appear in that strange costume. Probably they will be more horrified than over when they learn that. she is seen on the streets almost. daily in just such attire, and that nothing whatever is thought of it. The girl over whom this section of the state is raving just. now is Miss Lillian Smith, on expert with the riilo, who threatens to carry off the honors in marks- manship if she ever consents to appear iii a contest; of skill. She is only 13 years of age, but she appears much older. She has a strong frame, abundant; dark brown hair, and big brown eyes. Tanned by continued exposure to sun and wind, she is the picture of health and of typical far western beauty. When only 9 yours of age she manifested a fondness for the rifle which her parents readily gratiï¬ed. Slic often wont. off into the wilds of Mono county on hunting expeditions, and freâ€" quently secured game which she was obliged to procure assistance to bring in. Of late she has amused herself at odd times with shooting at glass balls and targets, and so unerring has her film be- come that a failure to hit a mark is con- sidered almost out. of tlio qucsiioii. On her hunting tours she uses it Eli-calibre rifle, which she handles with the ease and precision of an experienced marksman. One of her feats with the rifle which has attracted most attention is the breaking of a. glass ball traveling three thousand feet per minute. Slie shoots straight for- ward and also over her shoulder, using it hand mirror to sight with. â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"<-00 LOWERING A BOAT AT SEA. Inventive Genius Makes a Tackle that tnsurcs tnfcty for the Grow. A recent English invention seems to supply the demand for an apparatus which will lowor ii boat: at sea and reâ€" losse it from the tackles automatically with perfect safety to tho crc.v. A vorti- cal hook is secured at the stem and im- othcr at the stem. the points of the two being inbtard. When the rings in the bottom of tho tackle block are put in the hooks they are locked there by pins that stick into the shanks or the books. A strong line runs from a small book on the ring of the bow tackle to a similar hook on the ring of the stern tackle, and this line is kept. taut by means of two eyes and n. lanyard over the centre thwart, and thus, when the boat swings at the devils, the block rings have a slant. toward the con- tre of the boat. In case of need the boat’s crew climb into the boat, stcndying themselves by the fore and aft line. As the boat. is lowered a strain is brought on small lines running from the pins in the hooks to the davit guys, and the pins are drawn out, or they may be drawn out by hand. The boat. is lowered still further and ev- entually takes the water. If the wave lifts either end without taking the strain off of the opposite tackle the blocks will not bl) disengaged because the weight of the boat. kocpsa strain on the f rs and at. both ends simultaneously ill) block ring: drop out, and the boat is clear, even though the wave is standing llcl’ almost. on end. .4“ To Prepare Vegetable Mold Quit-lily As early as the leiivcs of the trees can be collected, let them be brought in scon- lld-Erilblo quantity, into a close place, and drrsscd up there in the form of a hot- bcd. Let. this be well saturated with the drainings from the dung lit-zip, with suds from the wash house, with urine from the stable and cow house, where this latter article can be procured. Let this bod or keep be covered and lined with fresh stable dung, to make it best. When the heating is sulllciently subsid- ed, let the leaves be uncovered and turn- ed over, to mix the dry and well together and if moisture be required, let. [fl"lll have i: of the mme description, repeating Kaiuml (hi-iii" “'9 dl5°3rd0dlthe pit-Cc!!! till all be reduced to ï¬ne, mould. This will ls: ready for use in two months from :hecitnu of collecting the leaves, and U! prevent any waste of the lyer of maiden earth, of two feet thick, s ould be made the sulstrstum, which Would receive any of the valuable liquid that. Would other- , with its bright green leaves is also very ‘ wiw mu m yum. lpretty, and fruit blossoms. particular 1 3 those of the cherry and flowering almond - Ltho la'tcr hating a prim, bright little i cffec‘, which with the absence of foliage adapt: it. to the evening dresses of toll, zintendcd for very young misses. i Min Tucker, a Texas gir lbs: lover 3,000 mils and married him. ‘She must have been Tucksred out. “904 l, followed , Lcsvesof slow decomposition should be avoided, as those of the oak. etc, which. however. are the best fur retaining heat lin hotbeds and pi‘s. The leaves of fir finiuis also be avoided, but tho†of the isycsmore, elm, alder, maple, and all the soft. kinds are better suitï¬dm arkthe gur- . This compost rho ep'. ry, m airy place, and ridged up, so that. ,the rain minof. wuh out the salts with i l I l whirli it abaunds.â€"-[Gsrdeasr's Record. Queer 'Ililngs anEars A boy not yet twelve years old is al~ 3 most a weekly visitor at the New York : ore and car infirmary. “Well. ‘ said “‘0 lair-Est, as he saw him come in as usual one ,shcnmon “what have you got in china ‘ this limo!" “anihin‘ but is been," he : drawltd. The by had fallen into the ' bad habit of pulling such things into bin f ears as shoe buttons, plows of slate pen-- l oils and wads of paper. The surist re- ; ceiitly met with a remarkable illustration : of this pernicious pnc‘ico, which he Iv lated to a reporter cf the New York Tin-in : A young woman of twenty-three tam , to me so deaf that l H uld hardly make ' her hear by shouting through ii trumps t. ; After removing a great quantity of wax ; from her car 1 found something metal- ic. “What's this’l" 1 mid. “Have you been putting something in your earl" "Oh dear, no," she said. “1 am not so foolish as that." Imagine her surprise when l pulled out a smooth, round brass button, with quite is large shank to it. “This seems to have been in there a good many years," l said. To my surprise the young woman crouch- ed in the corner in undisguised terror. "0 doctor?" she said; “what is that aw- ' ful noise?" It was nothing but a wsggon rumbling by, but I instantly saw wth the trouble was . llcr hearing had become normal when l removed that button, and she was frightened rind bewildered at the jumblcof confusing sounds. The ticking of the clock, chirping of the canary, or dripping of water distress- ctl her, and the rustle of her own silk dress made her start. with fear. I sent one of the assistants home with her in a carriage, and he said that the clatter in the streets so distracted her that he was compelled to hold her in her seat. About a week afterward slio came in againâ€"â€" “And wanted that button put back again, I suppose?" interrupted the report~ or. Oh no; she was brimming over with happiness, though for ii day or two she was afraid to leave the house. But. she told run about that. button. “When 1 was about. eight years old." she said, “I was sent to a village church in New England with my grandmother. The sermon was always long. and I used to amuse myself by pulling at the brass buttons on my coat. “One of them came off one Sunday, and I occupied myself for n time with putting it. in my ear and shaking it out again. Suddenly I is t. it sink away in there, and I could not got it. out. “I was afraid to tell my grandmother at; the time, and soon afterward forgot it. At ten years of age I llt‘gdll to grow deaf, and have been gctziiig worse over since, but I never once thought of that. button until you removed it." W-’.<v.â€"- -__. Freaks of (Inuit .‘li’ll. In Moore's “Life of 1. ml Byron†there is ii curious instance of tho rcctntricit ' in diet which now rind then took the p ace of other vagaries with that. remarkable genius. When dining with Samuel Rog- ers. Moore writes : “Neither meat, fish. nor win: would Lord Byron touch, and of biscuits and soda water, which ho nskcd fur, them had been, unliickily, no pro- vision. llc protested. hiiwuvvr, to be equally well plcosml with p mil. ms and viuog ir ; and of those rii-:.i:.:m tmi'oii-ila contrived to make raitln-r ii hourly iiiual.‘ On another occasion, whim Moori- siii. op positc ilic pool. at dinner, engaged. as he himself confcsses, “ill but earnestly ovor it beefstenk," Byron after watching him for some minutes, said, in it. tone of grave inquiry: “Moore, don’t you find citing ccfstcnk makes you ferocious 'I" The secret. of Lord Byron's ()Cllilslulllll abste- miiiusiiess in diet is to bo found in that morbid dread of corpulonco which ll0 is known to have posnussetl ; yet. had he been versed in the rules which Mr. Bruit- iug subsequently laid down and success- fully practiced for persons in like condi- tion lic Would have shuiiiiod potatoes, oven with the COIlCOllil‘nll‘. of vinegar, like the plague. The fact. is that. any article of food of n starchy or saccharino nature tends to produce fat, while such things as toast, lean meat, fruit, and green vegetables are all lnlmlcal to the laying on of Ellpt'ifluulls flesh. The po- tato is a distinctly flittoniiig kind of food, while most is more etpecially “flesh- forming." I: would be impossible to sup- port life on either kind of bodily susten- niicc exclusively, rind thorn are few poo- plo who would attempt. tlio_Spiirtnn sini- pliclty of a diet. consisting wholly of "magnum bonuins’ or “cliniiipimis.†Lord Byron's llkiiig"fnr potatoes and vin- egar, however, recon the affection of Curius, the ancient. Roman general, for a dinner of turnips roas‘od in the ashes of his own fire, and served tip on a wooden platter. Croat. turn have often been pe- culiar in their dietetic fancies. I’yths- gorns, for example, not Ol'ly abstained from the flesh of subunits, but. consid- ered oven ii dish of beans too stimulating for his philosophical ncolytos. lf tho io- taio had been known in fit-coco in his day the problnu of affording at once ii wholc- some, nourishing, and not. too exciting or too expi-nsivc form of nutriment would have been for safer o! solution.â€"[Lon- don Times. cw»..- The Games of Baroda. Twenty couplrs of wrestlers (i on tho games, fighting rains rush on one 1 others horns, till the loser, fairly struck, falls on his back, every limb shivering with pain; buffaloes attack one another with incredi- ble fury ; the iiiiwieldly rhinoceros ulth his blunted nose horn enters more slug- gishly into a contest. with hiii brother, and his wicked little red eyes belie his character ; when one elephant. has turn- ed his back, his vast. opponent. buts pori- derously into his side and has to be frightened off with rockets. The games, however, no longer contain any great ole- merit of cruelty. Home no ion or fights against horse ; the rider no anger in reality excites and then evades the en- raged elephant ; man no longer Wounds man with hands armed with sharp steel clams. Not only cruelty but sport is on the wane. Cock-fighting has been aban- doned, the bugs and hunting leopards or diffs/is are lower and less well-trained than they were. the deer preserves sro lit-oi Wellmltcili'll, wild pigs are more sel- Idotn met. with, tliu breeds of dogs and ; iigeons are ill-generating. and the wrest» l lers are n: t incised tn superhuman efforts 3 by princely rewards â€"â€"[flawtte oftliellum- lay I’residt-ticy. i i l, - w..- - Plantation Philosophy. De licaltl.i.:at lookin' men is sometimes do sooncs‘ t: r die. De biggel‘ tree is do one whut am sppto' for be holler. ltaln't nu UM: for some men for try tor be grim... it doan' make no difference how much a mnqu um hencberivlil be or rat. Dar'l dis difference twist. men an' wimin: Er ’oruan try tcr make her heart show on her face; do man tries ter make his miim show on his wuntensntc. Do trouble in (Int «lo 'onnn ain't allus got a heart an' do man siii't allus got a mine. i