Evening Star Newspaper, May 25, 1889, Page 10

THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D.C SATURDAY, MAY 25, 1889-TWELVE PAGES IN THE SERVANTS’ QUARTERS. Beautiful Rooms in the Houses of Mil- lionaires. PARLORS, BILLE 200MS, AND BATH-ROoMS— | HOW SERVANTS ARE QUARTERED IN APARTMENT HOUSES—KELATIONS OF MISTRESS AND MATD— FRENCH CUSTUMS—PERSONAL FREEDOM. The lodging of great dome problem. among mistresses there is a vast discrepancy of opinion. I know of an amiable and opulent couple who always choose their town house } with reference to the servants’ rooms. They argue that in every house they and their guests ean be made comfortable, but not in every honse can each of the five servants have a room alone. So far the servants should be tr as members of the family. This is a nec for their self-respect, and self-respect plement in faithful serv: When it is impos- sible to give to each servant a room, said the ady. talking on the subject not long ago. there | should be large screens provided separating | the rooms. for it is every human being’s right to have one spot secured from all intrusion. On the other hand. a cook on a rampage will Bot be deterred for a moment by the fact that she has an airy, sunny room, and at her next place she may have to sieep in a dark hole off the kitchen with the other servants. At this mo- ment a house in which the servants are su- perbly lodged is in the throes of a dome: sm, becanse the cook insists ou baking the fish without the head and tail, and the mis- trees declares that the servants are simply spoiled by good treatment. IN BOARDING HOUSES. In servantdom the conditions of living are as diverse as between 11th avenue and 5th avenue, only in this cuse the conditions of 1th avenue are found as likely as not in the 5th, | ‘The housing of servants in some of the crowded fashionable bourding houses, and especially in | English basement houses is nauseating top floor is too valu ervant appears to be part of On this subject ment. ment of an English basement house is below the level of the street, and mid- way between the small :ront room and the } kitchen the servants sleep in windowless rooms, and not infrequently have folding beds in the Kitchen, a fact which is discreetly kept from the boarders at breakfast. LUXURIOUS QUARTERS. In the new houjes, those which represent the latest and best things in architecture and | domestic luxury, the provision for servants is in keeping with averything else. The staff of | servants is necessarily large. and of that class Tepired to make demands, In the Villard jouse these rooms were in the top of the house, | @ formidable aud unbroken partition sep | ing the men and maids. The rooms were in hard woods and tastefully farnis furniture of light wood. Two bath quite IY lower tloor. made part of in Mr. W. rooms, ted as those of the be servant's suite. . Vanderbilt's house the social | life of the servants has been considered even luxuriously. Their entrance is bya special door. Iu front is a billard room for the men anda parlor «nd sitting-room for the maids, Their sleeping reoms are in the man These are finished in hard wood and attractiv furnished. In the mansard also is a large room given over for their entertainment, where at times they may hoid a servants’ b: IN MR. MARQUAND'S HOUSE the humanities are still further regarded. A servants’ elevator extends from the basement to the living rooms on the top floor. Here they have prettily-appointed bed-rooms and bath- Fooms lined with enamel tiles and answering to the most scrupulous demands of cleanliness, The housekeeper has here her suite of rooms. including a parlor. The square hall in the Marquand’s house is carried to the roof, gives place on each floor to a balcony and ridor. This is not omitted on the servants’ floor, where through perforated carvings they ean look down on any gala scene below. An- other instance of Mr. Marquand’s thoughtful- hess is in a stairway leading to the roof, which has been terrace Here, instead of, in the | cool nights, hanging over the area to catch a breath of air, the servants can sit and enjoy the famous southwest wind that so seldom fails and look down on the myriad-lighted town, a view in every season full of beauty. GENEROUS HOUSEKEEPERS. These, it must be confessed, are exceptional Provisions, and only possible in an unusually large and specially constructed house. The general standard of servants’ comfort, however, ishigher. Many mistresses take pride in their servants’ rooms and make show piaces of them. In this case the servants are obliged to keep them tidy. I was in a servants’ room the other day in one of the magnificent apartments on the Central park. A velvet carpet covered the floor. and the furniture was in keeping. This degree of Inxury was merely incidental. The tasteful but cheap ash bed-room sets are chosen for servants’ rooms. and the clean and comely bedsteads of black enameled iron. Some mistresses go further and add book shelves and possibly a few books, according to their zeal. ‘The prints from the illustrated apers and attractive supplements are saved lor their adornment. Young housekeepers par- ticularly take delight in giving their personal attention to establishing their servants. In this case their shock at the ingratitude of a Servant who walks off in the midst of the iron- ing os dinner is proportionately great. IN APARTMENT HOUSES. The problem of servants is increased in spartment houses. In those houses, in which rents are over [1.000 a year, the servants’ quar- ters are on the top floor. The rooms are not large, but are well supplied with light and air, not to speak of the more esthetic aspect in- cluded in views aud sunsets. Inthe smaller partment houses the servants’ rooms are diminutive holes or wells. No ray of sun dis- covers them and the air is received from the basements, with such additions as collects from the inhabited rooms on the way up to th roof. Otten the effect on the health is percep- tible. In some houses it is worse than others. A doctor from Roosevelt hospital not long ago said of a certain apartment house that it al- Ways furnished at least one hospital patient, ‘There is no use of my doing anything for you if you are going back there.” he said to a ser- Yaut whom he had just repaired. RESTRICTED QUARTERS, In the smaller apartments it is rarely neces- sary, and never convenient to keep more than one servant. The shifts to keep two are some- times ingenious and amusing. The device of one mistress consisted in placing two iron cot bedsteads one on top of the other, like steamer berths. One servant crept m and the other mounted. They had wire bottuins and nice clean mattresses, and were in every way com- fortable. A servant she said at tirst objected but finally accepted them. In apartment houses when the servants’ rooms are on the same floor with the family, the life of the ser- Yant is so inextricably tangled up with that of the family that the chances of friction are largely increased. There is no servants’ sit- ting-room, and if there were it would not only be disugreeable but unsafe to have fol- lowers or even visitors who wear bonnets and shawls so near the family rooms as they Must be in an apartment house. Whatever interferes with this intercourse disturbs those amicable relations which one would wish to — between mistress and maid. It is ifficult to make mistresses believe it, but in all those private and personal questions that affect domestic service the maids have the right of it. At least whetver they have the rigkt of it or mot the serious differences that -ontinuaily arise in private households do not involve the matter of lodgment or of hard work. but spring from personal restraint and long hours. A servant may be willing to sleep in a hole and be without light and air, and to work like a locomotive by day, but she wants her evenings free. She cannot see when her work is over why she should sit im an apartment kitchen @lone until bed-time. IN FRANCE they manage the servant question better, at least in this respect. French apartment houses are built around a court. In what is called a hotel bourgeois the apartments are owned by those who live in them and the servant's life is kept perfectly distinct. The servaut’s entrance is by & private stairway in the rear of the court. The main apartment connects with this divi- sion by a single door. When the labors of the day are over this door is locked. The servant cannot enter it, but the servant is free. When goes out and when she comes in is of no Eonsequence to anybody but herself. This per- Sonal freedom is more valued than wages, aad it accounts for the fidelity and long service that French servants give. In the French Spartments that are let the servants’ rooms are tm the mansard. And the resuits are not quite so admirable. ‘The social qualities of the French are bere unloosed; the gossip of each family is private property. MARKETING IN FRANCE, as every one knows, is done by the servants, who keep a book andeach month receive their sommissions from the trades people. In these servants’ quarters there is a community of in- terests, and at the end of the month the differ- | land ent commissions are This prevents peaching { courage | of by the shift! apportioned equitably. | system and a police court on the part of some more, less fortunate servant in a family inconven- jentiy small or unwarrantably "economical, Within their own apartments the servants are abso free, and it would be a mistress of sit them or assert any 9 iy The servant's self-re- spect would consider itself insulted. and the proprietor of it would discharge himself the hext morning. French servants in this country sometimes enforce this rule on mistresses, In the W. K. Vanderbilt house the only staircase from the first floor to the basement is through the butlers pantry, Mrs. Vanderbilt shortly after they went into the house told a gentleman who is my informant that one day she went down into her kitehen, and her French chef told her if she’ repeated the offense he would leave. OBJECTION TO PERSONAL RESTRAINT, This is an extreme case, but it is true that the great objection to domestic service by the living is in the personal restraints ubjected to. Numerous and renee a efforts have been made to induce girls wio work for starvation wages in factories to go into service. All objecfions may be sifted down to two which are suificient and reason- able, ‘The first is that the men whom they may e pect to marry will not visit them if they live out. The current phrase is, man will not marry me out of anybody's kitchen.” This puts the blame where it belongs—on the men. fhe desire of the girls to marry and to marry men who desire to better themselves in the world will not be considered unreasonable. The girl may consider household service hon- orable, but the man does not. PERSONAL FREEDOM, If servants were allowed more freedom; if a girl, when her work was over, was free to come and go as she liked, her contract with her mis- tress having been fulfilled, men would not have to seek them in somebody's kitehen. In that case the objection to domestic service lg the more capzble of working girls would be re- moved. With the knowledge I have of wor ing girls, of their high principles, of their cor- rect lives, of their fidelity devotion. I do not hesitate to say if these objections could be removed, if larger concessions were made, and | domestic service ranged more within the pro- Visions of other means of livelihood, this class of girls would be more likely to enter it, andin that case the woes of mistresses would be greatly lessened and the service greatly im- proved. Domestic service is so much in line with the ultimate and hoped-for destination of working girls as wives and mothers that there could be no better training than that they would receive in a well-conducted household, If they could be led to regard it a training-school for wi instead of a barrier to matrimony, the intel gence offices would be crowded with wide- awake, intelligent. clear-headed girls, instead siatternly and incompetent Servants that now, us every mistress will bear ke up the largest part of that com- Mary Gay Hunprreys, eee THE FREAKS OF FASHION. What the Ladies Will Weur During the Summer Months. M+vve anv Vioter are favorite colors in mil- jin. ANe is called Austrian cashmere. It is beautifally soft and fine, fitting and draping with pecu- liarly graceful effect. This material is used very largely in place of silk-warp Henrietta | cloth, Betce Wirn a Snape oF Pryx in it is one of the newest stylish colors. Crere pe Cute is now largely used for the accordion pleated skirts of handsome tea-gowns, Tur New Sasnes are very long. very wide, very elegant, and very expensive. Five yards is often used when the wearer is tail and elects for a Louis Quinze sash, the ends of which reach quite to the foot of ‘the skirt, Movsseiine Dz Sore is a favorite fabrie for graduating dresses, and will also be used for summer-resort toilets and bridesmaids’ gowns. Paris modistes use it for parts of youthiul bridal dresses over white-silk slips, Warrr axp WitLow Gueen is an ideal mix- ture for the wear of fair young girls with rose- leaf complexions. Tue Bovice which has one side glittering with jet and the other side quite plain is more popular than ever. Boyset Staines are tiny pipings like mil- liner’s folds, which pass under the chin and end in a rosette just below the left ear. A Prerty Faxcy Seex upon a low, black lace gown was straps of fine openwork jet, passed over and under the arm, and seeming to hold the Jace folds in piace. Warre Petticoats are passé for street wear. Instead choose one of black satin edge with } lace or of light shot silk with three pinked rafiies around it, Waew Tay-Corored Groves go out of fash- ion, pale gray-green will take their place. Stkaw Boxvers for summer are almost as soft as lace, and held in shape by fine wire. A Very Haxpsome new summer stuff is China | silk with a small raised figure scattered all over it. A New Pancy for dust and rain cloaks is to have the body of plain stuff and the loug, full sleeves of figured. Hanpry a Frexca Boxyet is seen without some admixture of gold either im the bonnet itself or in the trimming Pants Sexvs Ocr Parasors of half silk, half velve strips of watered silk and black lace. bexGaLine Dresses are in favor for after- noon receptions. Brack axp Cotonep tulle bonnets are made for midsummer wear, Maps or Honor at weddings carry baskets of lilies of the valley. Suver Lonoxerres-are a shade more ele- gant than those of the tortoise shell, Veuy Laxcr Lapies should wear plain fabrics without figures or stripes, Bonxets von Yoururvt matrons have strings that come from the back. A New Fancy of Felix’s is the use of sulphur yellow gauze for cuffs and neck frills to any colored costumes. If used upon a walking gown the hat that goes with it must be trimmed with the same gauze and a bunch of flowers matching the costume. 'w CapoTes are made wholly of pas- in deep-poiuted patterns. The handsomest ones are in a mixture of brown and gold, with a bunch of buttercups under the brim, and fuli bows of narrow brown velvet and gold gauze ribvon. Quite Tae Newest THnG tx Bonet Strixas is to have them of narrow ribbon velvet, fastened just back of the front coronet, carried thence to the back, crossed and held there with a fancy pin, then brought under the chin and tied in a loopy bow beside the left ear. FaswioxasLe Hatu-Daessens predicta speedy return to the wearing again of false tresses, braids, puffs, and fluffy coils. This, it is said, will be done to render the coiffure in perfect accord with the special styles of the Directoire and Empire. Tue Lapies’ Dress Assoctation in London, which does its best to extend the use of gar- ments conducive to health and comfort, em- loys a milliner who has invented a cork hat for ladies. Tue Distixcrive Features of the new sum- mer wraps are shortness of the back, ascarf- like straightness in place of the close-cut of the passé dolman, and the richness and beauty of the garnitures. Tue Frexcu Foutarps this season show less of novelty in their desi lori: any of tbe lighter silks, =e ‘Tur Lovis XIV Sasues show wide stripes of watered silk alternately with those of silk or satin, with gay Pompadour figures scattered in artistic groups down these stripes, Emvine Dresses of pure white, mostly in the cream-white tints, with white straw bonnets trimmed entirely with white, form elezant toilets for summer we afternoon re- ceptions, ——.ee—____ A Good Housekeeper. From the Jewish Messerger. How can I tell her? By her cellar; Cleanly shelves and whitened wall, can guess her y her dresser; By the back staircase and hall. By the puke Bee measure Way she keeps her brooma, pod ping t the keepii back and unses By her kitchen’s air of neatness, a Spans, ee poy pol ere in cleanliness and 1 ‘The rose of order blooms. amr 8 effort will be made when the next Mary. legislature meets to have a high-license established in Balti- An 2) better and more intelligent class of girls who | » Lignt-werout all-wool summer fabric | together with others made of alternate | OUR LADY-HELP. “Alfred, please do attend to what Iam say- ing,” my wife began, in that tone of scarcely | Suppressed irritability which, in the early hours | of the day, seems to come so naturally to mar- | ried ladies, “Charlie is reaily too old to be left with Margery any longer. The child will be seven to-morrow; we must make some change, | We were sitting at breakfast. It was the 2ist of March. I remember the date well, for, when my wife addressed me, I had in my hand the | publisher's account for bringing out my little volume of poems, and its amount had proved a shock to my feelings, “Certainly, dear, I think you are right,” [ re- plied, my thoughts still fixed upon the bill. “He has quite caught Margery's atrocious accent. Alfred, what is the use of my talking | to you?” | y dear Arrabelle, I am listening to every word you say"—"Margery’s accent” had rc vealed to me that Mrs, Fortesque was going through one of her periodic panics concerning the ignorance of her youngest child—the boy should have a governess.” “How can you be so thoughtless? Really, Alfred, any one would think. to hear you talk, that you had no natural feeling. You know Dr. Rouston-Kouston says that it would be pos- itively dangerous for the dear boy to touch a book for the next two years at le: Why on earth, then, are you worrying about him? ‘The little fellow is all right with Mar- gery. At this I was overwhelmed with reproaches, I was told that I neglected my child shame- fully | to take care of him. and many another of those home truths which it seems the fate of good- tempered, easy-going men to have cast at ther ‘The upshot of the matter was that my wife d clared her intention of having a lady-help. Iwas amused at the idea—the word seemed to suggest such a queer anomaly-—but I did not object. The question concerned Charlie much more than me. I thought. es, that might be a solution of the difi- | culty; only, for Heaven's sake, Arabelle, do let decently good ing. Your new is too ghast! Jenkins almost choked with laughter when he saw her the other night.” ‘That was all I said, not a word more; and yet to this day it is commonly believed im our family circle, not only that it was I who wished to engage a lady-help, bat also that I insisted on her being young and beautiful! Theard nothing more of the affair for some days, when, returning one evening from the oftice, my wife greeted me with a radiant it. been so fortunate! Annie afternoon, and she knows ¢ very thing we want. She | of a enrate down in Devonshire, and is just as | good as she c. more than a child herse! delightful companion for ¢ . At first [had felt rather mystified as to what “the thing” that was “the daughter of a might be, but at the allusion to Charlie wned upon me—of course it was the lady- And, sure enough, one mor a week later. I found a tall, del; - | looking girl sitting at the breakfast table. She timid little bow, and seemed rather frightened when I would shake hands with her. “She is really not bad-looking,” I remember thinking to myself. “In fact, if she were less and trembling she would be almost er features were delicate and refined, and her smail, well-shaped head was covered with a t wealth of ¥, blne-ble eurls, cut Stil, she was ce niy not ver raised her from the 1 so manifestly ill at case that it gave me quite an uncomfortable sensation to look at her, In th lady-help. tor we hada new head in our depart- ment at the office. who was making our lives a burden; so I was rarely at home. One afternoon, however, { managed to get off a little earlier than usual, and walked across that rather desolate part of Kensington Gar- dens that lies between the Round Pond and Birdcage Walk, It was completely deserted; not a creature was to be se Twas walki aleng an the soft, smooth gi . When suddeniy some oue from behind a tree almost sprang into my arms. She—ior it was a lady—came with such a velocity that it was by the inerest chance in the world we did not both fall to the ground, As a simple measure of precaution I was obliged to support her. For one moment she lay in my arms. panting and breathless, and as I looked down into ber face I thousht I had never seen a more Jovely eres hat eyes! What acolor! I did not know her in the least, and yet in some indetiuable way she re. called a face that I had seen, though I could not have said where or when. At that moment Charlie’s shrill, childish voice rang through the air: “Papa, papa! I say, that isn’t fair. You have jast spoilt the game. How could Lily ran when you stood in her way?” It lished into my mind't litho was the name of our 1. jin this nymph with disheveled hair, flashed cheeks, and cyes flashing with life and gaicty, would ever bave recognized the pale, die-awa creature whom I was accustomed to see at breakfi Whether Miss Bollitho found me less formid- able than my wite [cannot say; but certainly, now that I was alone, her manner showed none of that painful nervousness that usually char- j acterized her. She was still very shy, but not awkwardly so; on the coptrary, there was something rather taking in the way she would ruise her great. brown eyes for one moment to my face, and then let them fall, as if startled at their own audacity, I walked home with her, Charlie gamboling on in front, Just as we were coming out of the gute we met Frank Bristowe, my wife's reputable brother-in-law, and I was sly annoyed at the look of undis- guised amusement he cast at us in passing, My wife and Thad arranged to go to. the theater that evening; but, at about 6go'clock, we had a note from my sister who to have accomparied us, begging us to use her ticket, as she could not. Isuggested that we should take Miss Bollitho with us, My wife caught at the ide ‘The very thing. I have been wishing I could give the poor child a little pleasure, but 1 didu’t like to suggest it, as I knew you dis- liked her, though I don’t know how you can, for she is so good to Charlie. You won't mind ber dining with us just for once?” When Miss Bollitho came down, dressed for the theater, she really was a perfect little pic- ture, so quaint and pretty did she look in her queer short-waisted gown, made of some soft, silky stuff covered with birds and flowers, evi- dently an old family relic. Her pret girlish neck was uncovered, and she wore white silk spider-web mittens, such as were in fashion some hundred years ago. Her checks were flushed and her eyes were sparkling with sub- dued excitement, as if she felt the gods were favoring her more than she deserved. My wife looked at her with real, honest pleas- ure in her eyes, “How can you think that girl plain?” she said to me when we were alone for a moment. This was in allusion to aremark of mine the day I first saw our lady-help. “I never shall understand what you men admire in a woman. I think she is perfectly lovely.” So did I, but I had not the time to confes: so did a good many other people in the ly. ceum that night. As I noted the glances of admiration that were cast at her, I really felt round of my beautiful young charge; and, no Soaks, my manuer to her was just a trifle warm, although, of course, only in ‘a fatherly sort of way. Mrs, Fortescue must have noticed this, I think, for she seemed slightly annoyed; but she said nothing, unless, indeed, her rather tart remark about the grayness of my mustache had some bearing on the point, Now, it so happened that my wife took cold that night, and was laid up with a swollon face and inflammation of the glands. Miss Bollitho and myself were therefore in some degree thrown upon each other for companions! ip. She made breakfast for me, and now that she had lost her white, scared look, she, and the great urn behind which she sat, made a very pretty picture. She always made my coffee ex- actly to my taste. No matter how late I might be, t always found hot rolls and cutlets waiting. In 8 word, she showered down upon me those little acts of kindly courtesy which it is 80 pleasant to receive from the hands of a lady. In our early married days my wife had done the same; but that before children ap- peared upon the scene. I will confess that I soon began really to like our lady-help. I liked her quaint, old-tashioned ways, her little friendly attentions: aud why the deuce shouid I not have liked them? A man of forty—my wife takes care I do not forget my age; it is the aint Scag eaphin be ka muogher swe, thi enoug! . : it Fraik, our eldest boy, had lived, he would have been almost as old as Lily. Under the gentle influence of our pty talp breakfast became really a pleasant meal. fe all chatted together, and Charlie’ tions furnished an a subject for at Mise Lilian Bol- dy, ! But who that it was well for him ke had a mother | is the daughter | e early days I saw very little of onr | not for the world have let her know that I had not been doing it of late. “In the Times?” I replied with as much cool- ness as I could summon, “Qh, nothing special. Bulgaria is again to the fore. and. as usual, have been bullbaiting Balfour. “Margery, please go and fetch the Times Mr. Portescue has left in the breakfast room.” Like lightning it shot through my mind that the Times was probably uncut, just as it had been left atthe door, “Tam afraid I must go.” I began preparing to beat a retreat. lived. may I beg that you will favor me with vour company for a few minutes? I will P" Detain!” This looked seriou: Margery brought the Time ly touched, " Not a word. One ¢! paper to my face was all Mrs. Fortesene v fed. I felt most uncomforiable, but that it would be too ndignitied to offer an explanation, even if I had one ready, <4 ist is quite a gay meal now.” my wife continued. always im the same sepulehral tone. What a fool I was to have forgotten she j Was just over the breakfast room! “I am afraid LT must be asad wet blanket, for re po such bursts of merriment when I I suppose that is why you used to read mes?” use that ensued was terrible. ed. I don’t like to give the servants un- trouble, Is there any use in their putting a fire in the smoking-room, now that You spend your evenings in the schdol-room?” “What are you driving Arabelle? “Oh, nothing. Of course the here make remarks; but if you don’t mind, I am ; sure [ don't, “Mind wh Do try to speak more plaint. I dou't understond a word of w The “Ancient Marine s ey ug tothe orb my wife fixed on mie. elle, this is really too absurd. Are you making all this fuss because I went into the school-room last night to give a book to Lily 7” “Lily Mrs. Fortescue almost shrieked the name. “Miss Bollitho, I mean, of course. Charlie “she inquired in a lofty, indiffer- ent auner. Jertainly not. It is an insult to the I will not listen to suc! y." and I strode a had scored a point, How the deuce did my wife know that I had been in the school-room the night befor: vot that I cared, of course; why should 1? It was the stmplest accident in the world. The way i happened was this. The thing abhor most in |the world is sitting hour after hour with not a soul to speak to. Now, that e: ned alone, Thad been up to Arabelle’s room and found it perteetly stitling—the temperature would have given mé a tit of apoplexy in five minutes—and as I was wandering up and down » hall, undecided whether to hunt up Jenkins or to go to the club, I noticed that the school- room door was a ‘ttle open. I glanced in, ‘There was Miss Bollitho—pretty and tresh as a flower—her whole heart and’ soul fixed upon irl to out- ay, feeling as if I | book. my own little volume of poems! Seized with an irresistible longing to know which she was reading, I went softly into the room, Ab! it was ial favorite, the poem I loved eat | to damp my lite herself confessed, she and from the day had stoutly refused to read a Onee, when I insisted wy Parted” to her, she had at olmeste jst of the most pathetic verse. ‘Tears were standing on Lily’s dark lashes, Her confusion at being detected weeping over al pocm was the prettiest thing imagin- able, poet would have done les iitle sonnets, which I considered, perhaps. the best things Thad done. Nothing grand, you ow, but pathetic; the sort of thing a girl would like, I remember, now, most of those I read turned on the sorrow of losing those whom we love, and in the midst of one ‘which described how a young soldier, while dying on a batt! | field, fancies that bis fiancee is by his side, poor Lil nder-hearted little thing that she is—sobbed aloud. Could I ever doubt again that my poems had the ring of truth? As [watched the girl's unteigned emotion; noticed her varying color; the expression of her great dark eyes changing with every thought, I felt for the first time I had found one who understood me; felt, too, that I had in me the making of a true poet, and that he was the touch which was to call to life the ste for poetry, married she ne of mine. on reading we were = mpathetic listener isa rara avis; no she told me she had never spoken to a real poet before; aud her wondering gratitude as I read to her ‘was quite touching—her lisping murmurs of admiration in n ears delicious, ‘The hours flew only too quickly, and we were both equally startled when midnight struck, “Thad no idea it was 10 o'clock,” Lily eried, av. “I have had such a happy evening. How shall I thank you?” And with the prettiest air of mingled shyness and devotion she just touched my fingers with her lips. For the moment Iswear I felt the “Immortal” she believed me to be. I had planned half a dozen such evenings, and here was this al&urd folly of my wife's just going to spoil everything. Our new chief was away that morning, so there was nothing going on in the office, and I tossed off several little things whieh Tcould not but feel were better the anything I had written before. Miss Bollitho’s name was a splendid one for rhymi Lilias, Lilia, Lily—why. there was no end to the variations of which it was capable, One poem that I wrote I deter- mined to give to her. It was, perhaps, a thought tender; but then, after ‘all, she was little more than a child, xo it didn’t mutter, When I had finished this, I thought of her as I had seen her the night before, listening with wrap attention while I read; and as the picture rose before my mind poetic fervor took pos- session of my soul; a power stronger than 1: self forced me to write. I dreamed that I was twenty and that she—I called her Lily—was mine, my life, my all, It was a passionate love poem; but what of that? Did not Dante and Petrarca write love poems to women who were not their wives? In me, as in them, the poet and the man are distinct; the one adored a lovely vision, the other never wronged his wife even in thought. ‘That afternoon I again met Miss Bollitho and Charlie, I could not help thinking that she was expecting me, she was so prettily confused when I appeared and seemed to have something she wished to say to me. Just as we were be- ginning to talk that hateful Frank Bristowe joined us. I was thoroughly angry, for the fel- low is a cad, and was evidently bent on forcing me to introduce him to Lily. "To put astop to his impertinence I proposed that he and I shonld walk on togeth No sooner had we left the other two be! than he turned upon me, roaring with laugliter. “Ah! ah! Mr. Joseph, that is how you pass your time now that your wife is fast in ba is it? Ah!ah!1 saw your little game the other day. It's the best joke in the world. That sweet, confiding way she was looking up into your face was quite touching, white as for you— ah!tah! To think of Alfred Fortescue proving a gay Lothario. It was deuced mean of you, though, not to introduce me, for she is an un- common pretty girl.” My blood boiled. This fellow, who was barely tolerated in the family, to presume to address me in this hail-fellow-well-met fashion, as if we were on terms of equality! It wasa gross piece of impertinence, and I told him so, But he only laughed the more, “Don't be angry, old fellow,” he called out asIstrode away. ‘You should choose a more secluded place for your rendezvous if you mind being seen, Ha, ha! What a joke!” Thad not lost sight of him five minutes be- fore it flashed across my mind that it was the day my father-in-law entertained all his family at dinner. I had already declined going, but Bristowe would be sure to be there; and my hair stood on end as I thought of what a pic- ture he might draw of our encounter, I dined at my club, and did not return home until every one was in bed. Margery waylaid me as I was going down to breakfast next morn- ing: “Master Charlie would tell you, sir, when you met him and Miss Bollitho fu the ‘bavi good heavens! did spies dog my steps?—“that missus was very bad yesterday, Really, sir, I — quite afeerd, she suffered so awful, poor ear. Now, I value Margery highly; but really her tone was too pee t seemed to iaey that I was insome way responsible for my wite’s sufferings. 1 strode t her without a ee id see that I was Again, during breakfast, Lily seemed to have eqrengen ee her mind; but each time she was on capes t of speaking her courage appeared to fail her, I was quite curious to know what wished to say. servants will | ask whether Miss Bollitho also calls j suing Thad | | the book she was reading, and the book was my | laughed in | { took the book from her hand. What } ? Tread to her some i wonder that was a happy evening. Poor chill! “There's a nice fire in the scbool-room, sir.” the housemaid said. “if you would please wait there until [ light this fire.” I was shivering with cold. so, withont 9 moment's thought, I opened the school-room door, and, as I did so, I was startled by hearing low, convulsive sobs, as from some one in au agony of grief; they were really heartrending. “Miss Bollitho—Lily. what is the matter?” 1 exclaimed. frightened at the intensity of the girl's distress, She sprang up wildly and seized my arm. “Ob, Mr. Fortescue, I was afraid I should not sec you! [did so wish to meet you in the park, and they would not let me come. I thonght I should have died.” And she sobbed hysterically, still clinging to my arm. Had the girl gone mad? I put my arm around her to steady her to the sofa, but be- fore we had advanced one step a m ie fig- ure thrast me as the letter ¥ Bollitho was pressing into my hand, and turned onfronted it was my mother-in-law, She must have word that had b said. Lily's shriek of terror when she saw her letter in the hand of that woman recalled me . seized to a sense of my duty. irs, Montgore, that letter is not yours: give it to me at once!’ I said. in a voiee which I in Vain tried to render comma: “Yonvillain, I would ¢ “As for you. you hussy” suspicion that m t-in-law, if excited, wouid be valgar—“you good-for-nothing—” I seized her by the arm and tried to take the first!” she screamed, -I always had hada letter, pciiel! murder!” she shrieked, “Help! help ‘To this day Ido not understand how it hap- pened: but. at that moment, my wife. my father: .my brother Jack, his wife, Bris- halt the relatives the burst into the room, Mr. Montgore 1 to understand the scene ata glance. He took the letter from his wite’s hand, put it into his pocket, ussered us out of the rooms. and locked the door, leaving Miss Bollitho within, This done, he led the way into the dining room, sat down at the head of the table pointed to me totake the chair opposite, begged the others to sit down; reduced his wite silence—no easy task nd then began, very much in the tone which judges adopt when ad dressing condemned criminals: “Alfred Fortescue, I need scarcely tell yon that this has come upon us all as a most paiiful blow; the more painful, perhaps, from being unexpected. | have once trusted I do not lightly withdraw my | } trust; therefore, Linsist upon a calm and dis- | | passio’ fair before I can consent to your being treated | | as one unworthy of being my son-in-law, the | husband of my daughter.” | At this Arabelle sobbed aloud; her mother | shook her fist whil even Jack and his wife | as for the others. with the | exception Bristowe, who chuckled, they all simply glowered. But I was too stunned to care, Thad the dull, vacant feeling of being in a dream. “You are accused of carrying on a vulgar in- trigue with a young person who is living under your roof, (May F beg that you will not inter- | You are aceus vulgar intrigue with this young per- ad the following facts are advanced as accusation: | stematic neglect of your own wife, | y pvening at the Lyceum, | econd—Indulging in jokes and undue fa- | miliarity with the said young person during breakfas “Third—Being alone with her. under snspi cious circumstances, at an unseemly hour of the nigh | reise Meeting her by appointment in the Fifth—Carrying on a clandestine corre- spondence with the same. “Sixth—Allowing her to a) it with my own eyes, Margery, whom I’ now first’ observed to be among the spectators, | “He was clasping her in his arms when I en- | tered the room, Then, in re- turning to me: ply to these charges?” “The whole thing is an infernal concoction, Ireplied, by this time thorou: “e young and pretty.” My wife and her mother sprang to their feet, but Mr, Montgore again reduced them to silence. 7 | understand that you deny the charge?” | Yes, I do. tion.” “You do not, I suppose, deny that this let- | | ter” —taking out of his It is an insult to ask the ques- | to read it.” “It will be a question of counsel later to de- cide whether or not the letter can be admitted } as evidence; but, in any case, I will m: note of your protest against its being read.” He deliberately broke the seal, read the first lines, and then, looking at me keenly, said: “You acknowledge that this letter is addressed to you?” \ “Yes,” j “This simplifies matters considerably. Ara- belle, I should recommend your going to your room, No? ‘y well; perhaps it is as well that you should know the truth at once. And in his usual metallic, lawyer-like voice e began to read the lette “My own darling, m last rested on yours——” My brain reeled. What followed I never knew, excepting that it was a wild, fervent love-letter, which no woman could have writ- ten excepting under the influence of an all- absorbing passion which she knew to be shared | by the man to whom she was writing. Again | and again she thanked me for my love, und | swore that, although for the momentallseemed against us, she would yet be mine. “Love,” she said, “is immortal; but those | who stand between us will perish. j “Arabelle, that’s you, ‘they are plotting to murder yon. ‘This suggestion, of course, came from Mrs, | Montgore. My wife had a violent fit of hyster- | ies, her sister Maria shook the poker at me, ‘The whole scene was too unutterably horrible; it haunts me to this day, love! Since my lips could restore order. His voice was more cut- ting than ever as he remarked: “After reading the letter, I do not wonder at your protest. May Lask if you have receiv: many such letters from this young person’ 1 was too stunned to reply, I could only shake my head. “remember you always carry a letter-book in your pocket; will you allow me to examine it?” I must warn you, however, that you are not bound to incriminate yourself.” Scareely conscious of what I was doing. I handed him the book. He gave a slight grunt as he turned over the leaves; evidently there was nothing in it of interest. How could there be, when I only kept it for office work? Sud- denly he paused, put his hand to his throat, as if threatened with-apoplexy, and, for one moment, his feelings as a man overcoming his instincts as a lawyer, he literally gnashed his teeth with rage as he shook some papers in my face. Then my heart stood still, for I saw that he held in his hand my love poem—the one written while the poetic fervor was upon me. I could bear no more. I rushed from the room—from the house, Jack following me, clinging to my arm, I tried to shake him off. and wished madly that the Thames were near to put an end to my misery. “say, Alf, don’t attract a crowd. People think you are mad. No, you shau’t shake me off; I shall stick to you, bad lot though you be.” And, partly by persuasion, partly by force, he conveyed me to his house, ; “Now, Alfred,” he said to me a few hours later, when [had become more calm, “do you mean to say you didn’t know the girl cared for you?” Lily's shy, tender blushes rose be- [I fore my mind, and, try as I would, I could not stifle a feeling of gratification that, in spite of my years, I should have inspired one so young and lovely with so fervent a passion. “H'm! In that case the sooner you andI start for Norway the better,” Jack remarked, with an angry grunt. His wife a — him, and — = vain that I argued and struggled. , divini why I hesitated, told me she would take care of Miss Bollitho; in fact, would go and fetch her home as soon as we were out of the house. Four days later we were in “= ne I, at least, feeling very low and depressed. 'My wife’ face, a8 I had last seen it, haunted me. thought of little Charlie and could have cried. Even the remembrance of the “grande passion” I had inspired failed to comfort me. “What business girls to have ‘grande passions’ for married men?” I asked, ly. . ad wasbroughtin, It was from Lottie— Jack's wife. “Come back at once,” she wrote, “What a we have been! Lily Bollitho— handed over to father’s rill [ Ihave trusted you, and where 1| ® ate investigation of this most painful | '* 1, I repeat, of curry- |, It was some time before even Mr. Montgore | t AUCTION SALES. i THIS EV Tse ING THE BY ING. AUCTION COMME TIEN OG AT PUBLIC DAY MOEN SEVENT sk ot GENT The stock oc in first-class es- within fifteen ‘4 ‘ AND HAIS ¥ found . Ane WW ACTER B. WILLIAMS & CO, Anctionsers, FFER AT AUCTION WEDNESDAY, MAY VV-NINTH AT FIVE C ch, PM. VERY BIA MBIA N’ COL OS ON {TH STREET ON TO CLOSE TATE Qn MONDAY, TWENTY-SEVENTH MAY, 188: SISO CLOCK Bs , Prewiees. 3 rd E streets southes kt easy and wm peach Lot at tine my 24-dkds Lai UCTION SALE AT ANACOSTIA. i : TWO NEW COTTAGES AND SEVERAL VILLA SITES ON SHANNON PLACE ~ FULSDAL AD TERN Hat FIVE O'CLOCK With 6 rooms and ¢ cars With tion of bh bouse and $30 on TANSON BKOS., a DUN bdi&ds HANCERY SALE OF % 208 OF GROUND, FKONTING ON No: AND WATE SUBEETS, IN QUAKE cree of the Supre passed Avni Cc By virtue of a r District of Colu: dersicued tr mt x bt of the prenases, FIRTH, Iss, AT FIVE OC inal lots one (1) and six (6) in sguare tw Both are lots, tory bid is bot hind purchase mtalmaents at on ib haser will \ HOAs M. PLELDS, Trustes, Ls, : EKNA ulding. na Ds AD KILMAKILN, Tras S10 NIH. ave rts my23-d&ds hw TALUABLE IMPROVED PROPERTY AT avc- TION, BEING HOUSES AND LOTS NO. | N.W.AND 1520 TENTH S.W Iwill offer for swle publicity, t in tront aisesou TUPSDA HIGH IH eet and Comiplet ranteed or no sale. rc of the Dis- ase No. 48 vara aud others, the i. public MONDAL, the 4 a D, if Sayres Passed im bgtuty € against Peter XM trict of € Hilies et al. un front of the NIH BEVENT t K P.M, all that pare wion, Distiict of premises, On pe, AY oF he city part bet con bd er of said lot line of said street un doy € us of sale: Une 18 mouths fro: Je with 6 per cent ite muissory hotes of the pur. ed by the tras with a surety or sury ‘$; aud on rat and 1 er. bis or her Pwill be requir st of purchas be given to the pur- irs and assiieners. A deposit Le an wi s ate comy ten day's, otherwise trusters reserve right 10 rese pu scosts and risk after tive days’ ) divertisement of such resale in “The Evening Star. JOHN SeLDEN Penna, , JAS.S EDWAKE i) ove ‘Trustees. WILLIAM J. MILUEK. 456 La ‘ ave THOMAS E. WAGGAMAN, Keal Estate Auctioneer. is Auctioneer, PROPERTY. ON THE LEY VALUABLE CO! E 5 c FOUR- SOUTHE in trout of yn ma Lot 133 and tt ers: ; years, interest at 6 ut pe deed Of truston property s purchaser. A deposit of saie, All Conveyaucing aud rebaser’ cos! WLING, quy22-d&ds Auctioneer, QNALL PRAME HOL D TWO BUILDING SLOTS ON SIXTH ST BEWLEN K AND L STREETS SOUTHWEST. On MONDAY AFLEKNOON, MAY TWENTY- SEVEN 1H, AT SLX O'CLOCK, we will sell in front of they Lots 43.and 44, of fronting 33 t sub of sq. 474, adepth of 100 teet 5 toot eley, improved by small irame houses. Terms: One-third cash; balance im one 3 rs, LOtes to be Dayable se trust on prenise purchaser, Conveyancing, $y00 deposit.on each lot at time of sale. Lerus to be complied with in ten days, otherwise right rese Teseil at risk and cost of purchaser, atter five dass” eLt In some Lewspaper published in Wasking- UNCANSON BKOS., Auctioneers. WASHING- urtof the ne 11G84, derained, TON, D. By virtueof adecree of the Supreme District of Columbia, passed in equity on the 1 day of April, 188i. the trustee, will offer for sale, at pub nu, in frout Of the “respective premises, on WiLDNESDAY, the TWENTY-StCOND DAY OF MAY, 158%, at the hours hereinatter’ mentioned, the following parcels of Peal estate in the city of Washington, District of Co- Taba At FIVE O'CLOCK P. M., sub lots 16 to 23 clusive, in square 54. each of suid lots having a front- age of 17 fect on 22d street northwest by a depth of Y7 feet, to a public alley: aud also sub lot 24, square $4, fronting 20 feet on 22d street, by 07 feet deep om Street. AUHALF-PAST FIVE O'CLOCK P. ML, sub lot 25, square 84, frouting 26 feet on D street, and ranning back that width about 146 feet to a public alley, and improved by a three-story, brick dweiling ; and sub jot 26, square S4, fropung feet 10 inches front on D street, by 146 feet deep to a publicalle lot 27, square 84, fronting f} 36 fect deep, to a public alley. purChase wouey in cash, and the balance in two equal ustallinents 1 ohe and two years from the day of sale, With interest, or all cash. at the option of the pur chaser. A deposit of 100 will be required on tach Jot at the tue of sale. “Terms of sale to be complied with in seven days trom day of sale. A plat of the sub division will be exhibited at the time of sale, FRANK. T. BROWNING, Trustee, 416 5th street mw. GEO, W. STICKNEY, Auct., 956 Fst. my11-d&ds. S¥- THE ABOVE SALE IS POSTPONED TO gitsoay. MAY TWENTY-EIGHTH, 1559, SAME my23-da FRANK T. BROWNING, Trustee. IHOMAS DOWLING, Auctioneer. 'S SALE OF VALUABLE IMPROVED ty ow Tar ‘OK P) STKEET, GEORGETOWN: D. CoAT AUCTION ‘By virtue of theauthority vested in me by the will of Ficlena M. Cratty, deceased. 1 will seli ou W EDN DAY, VENTY-NINIH, 1889, at i of the juare 74, George! « or P) street! pth of pupae Gu W. STICKNEY, ARTITION SALE OF VACANT LOTS IN —— Le FRONTING SON NIN STLEEtS. PESO RR BioeB cab tee F rich tht fie iu AN ks | at | street | north 13 feet. aud | payable in 6, | 7 ha } i | cucht & sdewaike, | deiauituuy 7 NB ® | on application to the tous hic D | TRUSTED pay | tere { cen! ple tru: TKUSTEES SALE OF VALUABLE BULL FRONIING ON ISTH STREET, Bi ACLAWEST, ot th NDAL, NIH Diss | Five o ¥. ML Jot numbered tor (4), in G. N. Hopkins’ et al. eubdivis j square numbered one bundres per plat recorded in 1 are fale _my17-akds UNCANSON BROS, ING X SUBDIVINION 0} Costin ACROSS. By virtue « nisk an f the day's previous adverti-en tar. « my6-d&ds i te" THE ABOVE SA Sequence of Une fait att SEVEN as THIRTY FURNITURE | ONE FINE COVER AND. LOR SUITE TS Sti, BLES. wr AND Kt SIKEE TS a AUCTION PR COMA HALL PPC NING TABLE RUSTEDS' ey ke NEKO Property at SVEN SIER B. WILLIAM Wo Bi RGE WO STICKNE), THE ABOVE Sat AY TRE PHI Ye < h.hoatMaN, KMAN, WILLIAM W Rodel USTED He BOA COUNT SMITH A STATE « KIVER, TO THE NEW BRDGs ANAC TENDED, wine thee st ’ ND bla THA SALE INTAINE! ar IRS, MADE BY MALL CHATE CHINA ANE BAN. apy ax, 5 Trust oweer Tut DAY OF SALE OP VALI ABLE RFAL ESTAT! ame WADHIN ~ TRL ” A DIATELY Nt Aud ewer ; ‘ Wh DP CHAS. A Ba ite ‘thom 406 Sti st, uw IUNCANSON BROS EN ATL. 16 *. my. trust DUNC OMAS DOWLING, Aver ts s SALE OF 7 BULLDIN oO ANT Db. and able im tw ved airy 1 at the pure ed With within tees Peserve th 1 of LCOMS OF dt S100L Eb K PLA W ALTLE B. WILLIAMS & CO, Bucts ash, at the option of not complied with w! property will be resold i INE Lis} MUNDAY i. HK, surveyor's office of the ‘Terms of sale: One-third cash and the one, two und three years, for which the notes, bearing interest trom day of sale, and by a deed of trust on the prenuises sold. are to be ev or all ci ancive, &€., at the cost of purchase ?- THE ABOVE SALD POSTPON! D IN ott ntl WEDNESDAL NLV-NIA TH, PS89, at SAME Hut kK and ANSON BROS. A pect, i ALDPRNEY 1 LD St KEEL NS. » ANC floors abe Purchase 1 WHITE, OSTPONED EN MAL i place, PEKIOR HOUSE saNN TEN aH. AVY WENTY-Phc + Ashail well th PHOMAS DOWLING, Auctioneer. VERY VALUABLE IMPEOVED PR¢ 1343 QSTREEU NOKTHWEST AT On TUESDAY, MAY TWENI FIVE O'CLOCK'P.M. I wall sell No. 65, sai Wt purchaser's cost. -d&ds my; Lb By putea eon» im the funded aus aia (BO descri| OKLHW virtue of a District of Columbia, passed in 11624, the auction in frout of FOUKTH CLOG! DAY OF P.M, all that yy ba K & THOMAS DO! a Temises atne a. D Hing 20 2 on Mt purchaser, snve: ND ¥ 1 ALBA 44 MIKE rs RLY) __* fanned DIN KEY any }L-dkde tS POSTPONED UNTIL MAA, § Trustecs teen, tds CON. place, ticta. PATE WIN ven ; Trastecs, oN. tree THOMAS DOWLING, Auet HOLD TANC PALS +HTA, ing purchaser. A deposit of #200 will be reyu.ted at ‘the of male, CHARLES JOSEPH T. DY anid 140 sures, by @ ms = WLING, uctioueer. KUSTEES’ SALE OF UNFINISHED TWO. 4 ok DWELLING Sok wks oot atheimcagleg S 'S NO ST. decree of the AND STU irTi ‘cause, No. &)