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

' *\ * m, Cavendish By Randall Fairish •w* * ••+ *- ' ' :W Author of -0 D+oiT* Own ft Ladyofthmi ' /forth? Etc* ^pp7ri|fct by Randall PmM STELLA A PRISONER Synopsis. -- Frederick Cavendlah, ^New York man of wealth, receives a letter from an old friend, Jin* Westcott, urging him to come at once to Cfiorado. Deciding to go, he employs a lawyer, Patrick Enright, to draw up a will leaving meet of his estate to charity, with a mere pittance to John Cavendl«h, his cousin and only relative, a dissolute youth. That night Frederick Cavendish is murdered in his apartments. No will being found. John Cavendish inherits the estate. Two months later Enrtght Informs John Cavendish of the existence of ths will and offers, for 1100,000, to say nothing of it. John agrees. Stella Donovan, newspaper writer, learns from Frederick Cavendish's valet that he is not satisfied the body found was that of his employer. 8h« is directed by Farriss, city editor of the Star, to follow up th« case. Stella learns of the will Enrlght had drawn up, also of John Cavendish's infatuation for Celejte La Rue, chorus girl. A conversation Stella overhears between Celeste and John Cavendish convinces her Frederick Cavendish is alive, the victim of a conspiracy engineered by Enright to secure his fortune, and that Celeste knows where he is hidden. Ned Beaton, notorious gunman. Is also mentioned. Celeste Is about to leave for Haskell, Colorado, and Stella Is ordered by Farriss to proceed there at once. At Haskell Stella, representing herself as a magaslne writer, makes the acquaintance of Jim Westcott, Frederick Cavendish's partner, Westcott, resents the interest taken in Stella by Beaton, whom he knows only as a visiting New Yorker, and worsts him In a fistic encounter. Stella confides In Jim, who believes Cavendish is alive. Celeste and Enright Join Beaton at Haskell. While visiting his mine an attempt is made to shoot Westcott. Tracking the assassin, Westcott listens to a conference between Beaton, Enright and Bill Lacy, local desperado. He learns that Frederick Cavendish Is alive and a prisoner of Lacy. Caught listening, Westcott escapes, but leaves evidence of his presence and becomes a' marked man. Celeste visits Stella. CHAPTER VII--Continued. Whatever her purpose, she was gone scarcely a moment, gliding silently back to the chair beside the window, with watchful eyes again fixed on Hie closed door. Miss Donovan smiled and straightened up, well Fatisfied with her ruse. It had served to demonstrate that the ex-chorus girl was far from being as calmly Indifferent as she had assumed and it had made equally evident the fact that her visit had an object-- the discovery of why Miss Donovan was in Haskell. Doubtless she had made the call at Enright's suggestion. Very well, the lady was quite welcome to all the Information obtained. Stella opened the door and the eyeu of the two met "The Chinaman seem* to have gone home," the mistress of the room said quietly. "At least he Is not on this floor or in the office, and I could see iMthing of Timmons anywhere." "Then I suppose we dont drink," complained Miss La Rue. "Well, I might as well go to bed. There ain't much else to do in this Jay town." She got np and moved toward the 4oor. It you're only here viewing the iseenery, I guea« you won't remain long." "Not more than a day or so. I am iplanning a ride into the mountains before leaving," pleasantly. "1 hope I shall see you again." "You're quite liable to," an ugly curl ito the lip, "maybe more than you'll twant. Good-night." Miss Donovan stood there motiohlees after the door closed behind her guest. She was conscious of the sting jin those final words, the half-expressed !threat, but the smile did not desert her 'lips. Her only thought was that the other was angry. Irritated over her ifailure, her ^inability to make a report jto her masters. She looked at the jvallse on the floor, and laughed outfight, but as her eyes lifted once more jshe beheld her traveling suit draped ^ jover the head-board of the bed, and Instantly the expression of her face k hanged. She had forgotten hanging it jthere. That must have been where 'the woman went when she disapjpeared. It was not to rummage the ilted at all, but to hastily run through jthe pockets of her jacket The girl iPWiftly crossed the room and flung coat and skirt onto the bed. She rejiuembered now thrusting the telegram from Farriss Into a pocket on the * morning of its receipt. It was jone! Her first thought was to search else- • iWbere, although she Immediately rea- Used the uselesness of any such attempt The message bad been in her pocket, as she recalled distinctly; she had fully intended destroying it at the same time she had torn up the letter of instruction, but failed to do so. Now it was in the hands of the Lu Rue woman, and would be shown to the others. It was some time before she could recall to memory the exact .Wording of the telegram, but finally it ^ came to her bit by bit: "If any clues, advise Immediately. Willis digging hard. Letter of instruction follows. ^ "FARRISS." . There was no mention of names, £ }Kt these people could scarcely full to recognize thai this had reference, to the Cavendish case. The thought of personal danger never once eutered her mfnd. Timidity was not part of j to come Beaton returned. Stelfh heard the trend of horses' feet, before her eyes distinguished the party approaching, and she drew back' cautiously. In the glow of the light she could perceive four men in saddle halt in front of the hotel, three of whom dismounted and entered the building, the fourth grasping the reins of the riderless animals and leading them up the street She heard the murmur of voices below and the heavy steps of the men as they came slowly up the stairs. Then a door opened creakingly and she caught the sound of a Aoman's voice, 'is that you, Ned?" "Sure; what are you doing up at this hour?" *' ... "Never mind that, Who hhve you got with you?" •-•'* * "Enright and Lacy--why?" "I want you all to come in here a mfnute; don't make so much uoise." .. voice or two grumbled, but feet shuffled along the bare floor and the door creaked again as it was carefully closed behind them, Stella opened her own door a crack and listened; the hall, lighted only by a single jil lamp at the head of the stairs, was deserted and silent She stole cautiously forward, but the voices In Miss La Rue's room were mufbed and Indistinct not an audible word reaching her ears. The key was in the lock, shutting out all view of the interior. Well, what was the difference? She knew what was occurring within--the stolen telegram was being displayed, and discussed. That would not delay them long and it would never do for her to be discovered In the hall. Convinced of the uselessness of remaining, she returned to her own room, closing and bolting the door. This time she removed some of her clothing, and lay down on the bed, conscious of being exceedingly tired, yet in no degree sleepy. She rested there, with wide-open eyes, listening until the distant door creaked again, and she heard the footsteps of the men Id the hall. They had not remained In Jthe chorus girl's room long, nor was anything said outside to arouse her suspicions. Reassured, Miss Donovan snuggled down into her pillow, unable to distinguish where the men went, but satisfied they had sought their rooms. They would attempt nothing more that night, and she had better gain fehat rest she could. It was not easy falling asleep, in spite of the silence, but at last she dropped off into a doze. Suddenly some unusual noise aroused her, and she sat upright, unable for the moment to comprehend what had occurred. Then something tingled at the glass of her window, sharply distinct as though a pebble had been tossed upward. Instantly she was upon her feet and had crossed the room, her head thrust out The light In the office had been extinguished. and the night was black, yet she could make out dimly the figure of a man close in against the side of the house, a mere hulking shadow. At the same instant he seemed to move slightly, and some missile grazed her face, and fell upon the floor, striking the rug with a dull thud. 8he drew back In alarm, yet immediately grasped the thought that this must be some secret message, some communication from Westcott. Drawing down the torn curtain, she touched a match to the lamp and sought the intruding missile. It had rolled beneath the bed--a small stone with a bit of paper securely attached. The girl tore this open eagerly, her eyes searching the few lines. "Must see you tonight Have learned* things, and am . going away. Go down back stairs, and meet me at big cottonwood behind hotel; don't fall. J. W." Her breath came fast as she read, and crunched the paper -Into the palm of ber hand. She understood, and felt no hesitancy. Westcott had made discoveries so Important he must communicate th^m at once and there was no other way. He dare not come to her openly at that hour. Well, she was not afraid--not of Jim Westcott She paused in her hasty dressing, wondering at herself, dimly aware that a new feeling partly actuated her desire to meet the man again--a feeling thoroughly alien to the Cavendish mystery. She glanced Into the cracked mirror and laughed, half ashamed at her eagerness, yet utterly unable to suppress the quickened beat of ber pulse. She was ready almost In a minute, and had blown but the lamp. She almost held her breath as she opened the door silently and crept out ibto tl > hall. Twenty feet down this passage ended In a door. This was unlocked. and yielded easily to the grasp of her hand. It opened upon a narrow platform, and she ventured forth, At the bottom she was In a gloom almost Impenetrable, but her feet felt a cinder path and against the slightly lighter sky her eyes managed to distinguish the gaunt limbs of a tree not far distant, the only one visible and doubtless the cottonwood referred to In the note. Shrinking there In the black shadow of the building she realized suddenly the terror of her position--the Intense loneliness; the silence seemed to smite her. Still It was not far to'the tree, and surely there could be no danger at this hour. If there had been Westcott would never have asked her The very recurrence of his Indicating his presence. Suddenly something moved to her right, and she shrank back against the tree, uncertain If the shapeless thing approaching was man or beaSt. He vears almost upon her before she was sure; then her lips gave utterance to a little sob of relief. > "OhI You frightened me so!" The man stopped, scarcely a yard away, a burly figure, but with face indistinguishable. "Sorry to do that,"* he said, "bdt no noise, please." She shrank bach to the edge of the tyank, conscious of the grip of a great fear. "You--you are not Mr. Westcott?" she choked. "Who are you? What is it you want?" "You've been playln' in a game what's none o' your business. 'Now I reckon It's the other party's turn to throw tome cards. Thought yer was comin' out yere ter meet up with Jim Westcott didn't yer?" She made no answer, desperately seeking some means of escape, the full significance of her position clear before her. "Got a nice little note from Jim," the fellow went on, "an' lost no time a glttln' yere. Well, Westcott is not liable to be sendln' fer yer again very soon. What ther h " She had dashed forward, seeking to place the trunk of the tree between them, the unexpected movement so sudden, she avoided bis grasp. But success was only for an Instant. Another hand gripped her, burling her back helplessly. "You are some sweet Uttle lady's man, Moore," snarled a new voice rasplngly. "Now let me handle this business my own way. Go get that team turned around. I'll bring the girl. Come on now, miss, and the. less you have to say the better." She grasped at the bark, but the fellow wrenched her loose, forcing her forward. "Keep still, you d tiger cat" he hissed, "or I'll quiet you for good." "What Is it you want of me? Who are you?" "We'll discuss that later. Just now, move on--yes, straight ahead. You see that wagon over there? Well, that is where you are bound at present Move on pronto." She realized the completeness of the trap Into which she had fallen, the futility of resistance. She was as helplessly lu his power as though bound and gagged. Before them appeared the dim outline of a canvascovered wagon silhouetted against the sky, to which was hitched a team of horses. As they approached, the shapeless figures of two men appeared In the gloom, one at the head of the team { and the other holding back the canvas top. Her guard gripped her arm, and peered about through the darkness. "Isn't Ned here yet?" "Yes, all right" answered a muffled voice to the left "I Just came out; here are the grips and other things." "And about the note?" "She wrote that, and pinned It OB the pillow." "Good, that will leave things In fine shape," he laughed. "I'd like to see Jim's face when he reads that, and the madder be gets the less he will know what to do." "And you want us to atay?" asked the other doubtfully. 'Stay--of course; I am going to stay myself. It (s the only way to divert suspicion. Good Lord, man, If we all disappeared at once they would know easy enough what had happened. Don't you believe Westcott is that kind of a fool. All ready, Joe?" The man at the wagon muttered some response. "Then up you go, miss; here, put your foot on the wheel; give ber a lift, will you?" Anxious to escape further Indignities, and comprehending the uselessness of any further struggle, with a "Sure." "Well, keep awake, Joet, and mind what I told yer. Now, Moore, up with you, and drive like b- ; yoa tSBst be in the bad lands before dafltgljt." A fellow clambered to the In front, his figure outlined agalMt the sky, and picked up the' reins. "Whoa, there, now; quiet, Jerry. Dld#you say I was to take the ridge road?" . "You bet; it's all rock and will leave no trail. Take it easy and quiet until you are beyond Hennessey's ranch, and then give them the whip." The next moment they were under way, slowly advancing .ihrnajii - the darkness. " . ' CHAPTER VIIi. 4 •Inthe Shoshone Desert, L Excited as she was, and frightened, the girl was still composed enough to grasp the nature of her surroundings, afid she had time now, as the wagon rumbled forward, to think over all that had been said, and fit It Into the circumstances. What did they propose doing with her? The question caused her blood to run cold. That these people were desperate she had every reason to belter nature and she gave this phase of the matter no thought But she must communicate with Westcott tell him all that had occurred. She would send trim a note the first thing in the morn- Somewhat reassured by this reasoning, she was still seated there, staring {Mkt Into the night, when Enright and name gave her strength and courage. It was a rough path, sandy. Interspersed with small rocks, and led down Into a gully. The tree stood on the opposite bank, which was so steep she had to grasp Its outcropping roots in order to pull herself up. Even after gaining footing she saw nothing of Westcott heard no sound' "Keep StIH, You D Tiger Cat," Hissed. [ Pleasant Day, Sen or," He Said Graciously. lieve; they were battling for big stakes; not even murder had hitherto stood in their way. Why then, should ther hesitate to take her life, if they actually deemed it necessary to the final success of their plans? She remembered what Beaton had said about her room--the condition In which It had been left They had removed all her things, and left a note behind In womanly handwriting to explain her hurried departure. There was a master criminal mind, watchful of every detail, behind this conspiracy. He was guarding against every possibility of rescue. The uncertainty, the fear engendered by ber thought the drear silence almost caused her to scream. But she conquered this. The gray dawn came at last, spectral and ghastly, gradually yielding glimpse of the surroundings. The/ were traveling steadily south, the horses beginning to exhibit traces of weariness, yet still keeping up a dogged trot All about extended a wild, desolate scene of rock and sand, bounded on every horizon by barren ridges. Nowhere was there slightest sign of life--no bird, no beast no snake even, crossed their path. All was dead, silent stricken with desolation. Stella stared about at It, and closed her eyes, unable to bear the sight; her head drooped wearily, every nerve giving away before the depressing scene outspread In every direction. Slkes, watching be* slightest movement, seemed to sense the meaning of the action. "Bad, alnt It?" he said expressively. "You know whar we are?" "No; but -1 never before dreamed any spot could be so terrible." "This Is the Shoshone desert; thar ain't nobody ever comes In yere 'cept wunst in a while a prospector, maybe, er a band o' cattle rustlers. Even the Injuns keep out." She lifted ber eyes again, shuddering as they swept about over the dismal waste. The sun rose a red ball of fire, coloring the ridges of sand, and painting the grotesque rocks with crimson streamers. In the shadow of a bald cliff the wagon was halted briefly, and the two men brought forth materials from within, making a hasty fire, and preparing breakfast. Water was g'iven the team also, before the journey was resumed; while during the brief halt the girl was left to do as she pletsed. Then they moved on again, surrounded by the same drear landscape, the very depression of It keeping then silent. * They settled down to the same monotony, mile after mile. The way became rockier, with less sand, but | with no more evidence of life. Far | away ahead a strange buttress of rock rose Into the sky resembling the turret of a huge castle. The sun was directly overhead when Moore turned bis team suddenly to the left and drove down a sharp declivity leading Into a ravine. "Drop the canvas, Joe," he said shortly, "there's Only «Jbout a mile more." The passage was so narrow, and so diversified by sharp turns, that Miss Donovun, shut in behind the closed cover, could perceive little of its nature. The cliffs arose precipitously ou either side, absolutely bare. To the left nothing could be seen but black rock, but on the other side an stones, held only on the reins, fade as they Aeecaoded. A: Ing appeatpd qfceve J>ht a narrow of sky, aid the glimmer of sun totally vanished. Alifcust at the moment the driver retotsed the creaking brake, hut at a trot the wafta swept forward between two pinnaciea C rock, and came out Into an open valley. The transition was so sudden and startling as to cause the girl to give utterance to a cry of surprise. They were in a green, watered valley, a clear stream wandering here and there through its Center, shadowed by groves of trees. This valley was nearly square, possibly extending not over a mile in either direction, merely a great hole rimmed by desert a strange, hidden oasis, rendered fertile and green ^ by some outburst of fresh water from the rocks. Emerging upon it In midst of the barren desolation through which they had been toiling for hours, blinded by alkali dust, it seemed like some beautiful dream, a fantasy of imagination. M*Iss Donovan doubted the evidence c: her own eyes, half convinced that s'.e slept. It was Moore't voice which aroused her. . "Mendez must have got back, Joe," he said eagerly. "There are horses and cattle over yonder." The other pushed up the canvas and looked out "That's right. The fellow Is comin' now--see?" He was loping along, carelessly, Mexican from high hat to jingling spurs, sitting the saddle as though molded there, a young fellow, dark faced, but with a Uvld scar along one cheek. "Jdan Cateraa, the Uttle devil," muttered Slkes, as the rider drew nearer "There's some pot brewing if be is In It" The rider drew up his horse* and lifted his hat, his smiling lips reveal-, ing a row of white teeth. "A pleasant day, senor," he said graciously, his dark eyes searching the faces of the two men, and then dwell- Inc with Interest on the woman. "Ah, your pardon, senorita; your presence Is more • than welcome here." He rested one hand on the wagon box, the expression of his face hardening. "Yet an explanation might «ot be out of place--the Senor Mendez may not be pleased." "We came under orders from Lacy," replied Moore confidently. "You have seen us both before." 1 , * "True, but not the lady; yoe will tell me about her?" Bikes climbed down over the wheel. "It is like this, senor," he began. "Lacy did not know your party was here; be thought you were all south fur another month yet He would keep this girl quiet, oat of the way for aV time. She iff from New York, and' knows too much." AGAIN IN •mm *" I "She was took in a wadon down the desert road." (TO BE CONTINUED.) i wad- II £J CONFUCIUS' TOMB A SHRIKE Graveyard In Which Qreat Teacher le Burled Held Sacred to Him and His Descendants. ' V > The graveyard of Shantung, Chu- Fu, lying one mile from the city gate. Is noble expression of the dignity and mystery of death, says Nathaniel Peffer in Scribner's Magazine. Leading to It from the gate is a broad avenue of trees spanned half way by a stone arch of exquisite carving ant} majestic lines. The graveyard proper, which is really a park, is enclosed In a pink wall. - Within the graveyard any member of K'ung clan, descendants of Confucius, may be burled, whether the person be a scholar or a coolie. At the farther end of the park is another wall, behind which are the tombs of Confucius, his son and bis grandson. These consist, of a piling up of earth, before which are a stone altar, a tablet inscribed with six Chinese characters, a stone urn flanked by two bronze candlesticks, and along its sides a few trees with shrubbery around it The K'ung family has enormous holdings of valuable property, the government remitting the taxes *on much of the property and appropriating periodically for the maintenance and repair of the cemetery. man on either side of her, Miss Donovan silently clambered Into the wagon, and seated herself on a wide board, evidently arranged for that purpose. The fellow wlo had held back the top followed, and snuggled Into the seat beside her. She noticed now he held a gun in his' hand, which be deposited } open space yawned, perhaps twenty between ht^ ku -All setr j feet across. Its bottom imperceptible. I The horses stumbled over .the rough ; Our Human Weakne I wouldn't give three whoops for a man whose heart did not beat faster, whose eyes did not take fire, and whose spirit did not swell--who would not be moved to laughter or to tears by the voices of birds and children, by a song from the heart by a woman's heart by a woman's pleading, by noble oratory or noble acting, by any human action through which the spirit in one speaks to the spirit in others. Our human weaknesses are often the secret of our salvation. So, loving life, I have always been impressed by the emotions of youthful, exuberant life which bring cheers, laughter and tears, and without shame ° in any of them.--Hon. Joseph G. Cannon In Barpel's l^agazine. - rAmerica Land of Tobaeeo.', - * America Is still the greatest producer of tobacco and alpo the greatest consurtier of it, the greatest exporter and the greatest Importer, too. She keeps her association with It which began with the discovery of tie new world. It was the riches of tobacco as well as gold and fountains of youth that drew hither the adventurers who penetrated the new con tlnenuv Later tobacco was so precious a thing among the first English colonists that they plowed up the streets of Jamestown to plant it Character in Jewish Folklore. "Llllth" Is a female demon of Jewish folklore. The name means "night monster." In Rabbinical literature Lilitli becomes the wife of Adam, but flies away from him and becomes a demon. Red-haired people. It is stated, anr less liable to become bald than with hair of any other color. 8ifltpie foulard suit With* platted1 sWlrt and hip gtrdttng Jacket A taffeta frock having a abort, fiill skirt composed of three flounces cut bias, one Joined to the other, thus slightly increasing fullness of each eae* tlon. The plaited organdie ruff has take* a firmer hold on fashions than one might have expected, according to n Paris fashion • correspondent Although p^turesque, It has a certain impracticability not calculated to enhance its yalue with modern woman, but despite this fact It has slowly grown lh favor. It appeared first in the early spring as a neck finish for capes, coats and dresses. Now we find It in the neckwear departments of the shops. Sometimes It is attached to ft flat collar ending in revers, the ruff setting up around the head at the back and following the line of the collar down to the' point of the rever, making the frill stand away from the shoulders. This is, of course, only for those who are slender. As designers have been struggling for some months to popularize the high collar, those described indicate that their efforts are meeting with a certain measure of success. 8iik Ruches Trim 8ummer Wrapa. Silk ruches as well as those of organdie are used to trim the popular summer wrap of silk. There are fetching little taffeta capes that drape about the shoulders and end just below the waistline. These are topped by puffy ruchings of the silk/ Then th^re are long satin capes finished at the edges with wide ruchings of satis cut in scallops, which ere bound by hand with a bias piece of the material. Even crepe de capes--this fabric has found Its way Into our summer wraps--are heavily ruched. 8plashy Patterns and Polka Dott Clieruit uses large splashy and well- - separated patterns in foulard and also sanctions the ordinary polka dot In her handsomest models she sup. presses at points the printed figure by covering it with an embroidery exactly matching In tone the foundation of the print, thereby blotting out the figure. A perfectly straight chemise dress of foulard .has side panels /shirred very tightly to a depth of about four inches, making them narrow when they are attached to the waist, but floating away to ratfyer an extreme width at the bottom. Here they are tucked under and caught to the skirt Itself. Jenny shows a number of simple little taffeta dresses, with skirts so short and full that she has been forced to add pant&loons for nether garments. A model In black taffeta is a one-piece dress with low waistline, to which Is set four flounces cut on the bias, one joined to the other, thus slightly increasing the fullness of each section. Each joining seam is piped. The bodlqp, which wrinkles around the figure In a sort of half fitted and corsetless style, has a '<Wh» ruche. ' Heritage from Victorian Age For many of her taffeta dresses Jenny favors the quaint little bodices of the early. Victorian period. Theso fit quite snugly at the waistline and have drooping shoulders. She often makes plaited ruffs to fall over the upper pArt of the arm. Crisp, taffetas 1ft light cMbks are made into youthful frocks for summer wear. Much organdie Is combined with the taffeta, and to accentuate their dainty, appearance oldfashioned crystal buttons are used as fastenings and trimmings. One such dress buttons down the entire length of the front with shiny glass buttons. A narrow sash of taffeta starts at the under arm seams apd ties in a loose bow at the back. Basque waists and full-flounced skirts am other features of the checked fcilk dresses. Here the basque does not look at all extreme, but appears thoroughly In keeping with the fabric.. These frocks, too. have either a ruche or a fichu collar to give a quaint effect From the description one might think these like fancy costumes, but they are not. They are quite simple and charmlhg. Rich Colors in Evening Dresses. Evening dresses are In beautiftil shades of taffeta. They are not the pale pinks, blues and yellows typical of the taffeta evening frocks of past seasons, but rich reds and coral shades/ Emerald green and bright blues are also seen in evening frocks. The fact that brown continues to be.one of the most fashionable color* is really surprising. We might have expected it to be entirely supersede* I by the lighter colors in midsummer things, but It has not. Brown taffeta, brown net and all sorts of straws and ribbons for hats In this shade art In the very smartest clothes. There Is a lovely brown taffeta^ striped with gold made into strikingly beautiful afternoon frocks. Then there are brown taffeta suits that have short jackets and plaited skirts topped by huge sashes, the effect b*- Ing almost that of a dress rather than of a suit. Dresses of Jacobean Type Models of Especial Design 8o Constructed That They Make 8trong Appeal to All. A dull red dress may be embroidered In various shades of brown and blue, mingled with mellow rose hues without giving the Impression at first glance of any definite color. The designs are purely Jacobean. The finest tapestry wools are used for the embroidery. In order to make the frocks entirely Individual athl real works of art the wool is dyed especially for each dress. The chemise model which Is the basis of all their dresses, 's worked out In cloth or flannel and literally covered with embroidery In soft colors. The cloth and flannel dresses are piped at the neck and sleeves with taffeta of a color that blends with the needlework. Smart Uttle taffeta hats draped with veils and ornamented with fine worsted embroidery are to accQRoyaui' dresses Homespun is another favorite mate; rial with designers. From a dust coK ored Canadian homespun a country cape has been made. It Is three-quarters length and overhung with an oldfashioned shoulder cape, both being trimmed with a raveled and knotted fringe of the material. Dresses for the mountains or seashore are of Scotch wool in heather colorings. These show a combination of the sweater and the coat dress and are economical as well as practical foe tHey cost about what one pays for a good sweater. A narrow leather belt is the only trimming on them, but the belt is always quite out of the ofe> difiwy. " Finer Nets ind Laeeit Nothing figures more prominently among spring and summer materials for evening wear than the finer 'nets and laces. Fashion has called back for another long reign.