Evening Star Newspaper, January 10, 1891, Page 7

AIRILL KIRILLUITCH'S PERIL MADAME HENRY GREVILLB (Copyrighted.} CHAPTER L AS THE WORLD GOES, Kirill Kirilluiteh Rouskine was hardly justified in grumbling | ¥'6 048 at fate for what he termed her ill-nsage of him. ‘True, he had had the misfortune to be born 4 | Tatiana he: younger son, but his share in the paternal estate had been sufficient to purchase a com- fortable little property near Beriozi on the banks of the picsie~sque7Souzia, and his pay as ‘an officer of infantry, although small, was sufti- cient to enable him to draw considerable satis- faction out of life had he been one of the kind todo it. But he was not, and it would be idle to attempt to gloss over the fact. No matter how hard his good wife Tatiana and his three rosy-cheeked, softeyed children tried to get into his heart, they couldn't effect it and must needs content themselves with getting as close it ible. “cPape nam awfal bard man to love!" said Macha, the eldest daughter, = = and, fi come back, Sophie Savichna!” inded, ry eyebrows had seem- ingly become knitted ina permanent scowl. ‘Tatiana tortured hervelf for several long weeks with all sorts of dread suspicions. Could it be that he had fallen in love with some other woman and that henceforth her life was to be blasted, her soul swept with the storms of jeal- | ousy? Ay But at last the m: came out. He had | fallen in love, but, fortinately for the young | wife, it was.a beautiful black mare which he coveted and which the dealer held at so high & price that it was weeks and weeks before the army officer could bring himself to make the sacrifice. “I should have died if I hadn't got her.” said Rouskine to his wife. “I believe I should have murdered that horse dealer if he hadn't let me have the beaatiful animal. in heaven's name.” cried Tatiana, “why @ida’t you tell me what the matter was?” “Teil you! How couk I?” growled Rouskine. ‘Some one seemed to have me by the throat be strangling ‘me. Heaven be praised itis all | over with now. It's a wonder I didn't commit | making the sign of the | ero ‘The lapse of ten years had set the grizzle of middle age on Hourkine’s stubborn hair an beard and intensified the gloomy expression of his deep-set eyes. Although the joyous Easter were at hand he returned home one | the worst of humors. has happened to you, Kirill Kirill- ked Tatizna in her fore than eno: ‘an- swer, crabbediy. “What think yon?” he eon- tinned, as he champed his briar wood pipe sav- ly. “hey are going to build a school school house, of all | : 4 The children in the village are wild: they grow more and. more | : they need restrait; a school will be "t understsad.” blurted out ‘a school means a schoolmaster, | puffed up. spri retentious savant, an advanced thinker a8 they call themselves, want to control things here. Palace of science, as Ro uoualy called the rade structu | soon in readiness for the anxiously awaited i sed, beside the school room | en and bed room. the latter Rourkine; of the matter is Rousk'ze waa dying to meet this pretentious ecllegian | brases about reform seience, | tely making up his mind how | quickly proceed to take the conceit | with his gaze riveted upon that ex (who | thei ercise, had never been able to learn to swim. In spi ‘of Macha's Vege roe to her, but served in no wise to keep her out the water. In fact, the river exerted a t her, and often when com- His Hh 2 i 5 e Ft wvichna !” was called out in shrill, don’t go, it’s dai . ‘he word “deSgerous” sent ai throng 7 ” sent a iver Rouskine’s body. He rose to his feet, he stood there straining his eyes the foliage of the willows wi the river bank, BI re ch should be dro her? Save her? Would I not save were anybody else? Am I lying to myself?” “Ob!” came that instant ina shrill scream from Sophie. “Come back, little soul (term of endearment): With a few mad strides Rouskine had reached the river and pushed the willow branches aside. ‘The water was already up to the young woman's sh which like carved ivory above the blue surface of the river. She made her clothes into a bundle, which she was balancing upon her head with her laf bs while right grasped a long thin an the was using it'¥0 feel her way enfely al on 1e bottom of the river. Rouskine could his own breath come and go as he stood there igure slowl; hie molded figure as it dise why sight likes Oytheren sohorsing tothe er whence she had sprung. Now the water was rippling about her neck, and now it had reached tifal head to keep it from caressing her lips. Rouskine wasin egony. The sweat ran in cold drops off his brow. It seemed to him as if he must die every instant and yet something or some one forbade him to stir hand or foot. cursed to stand there and see the girl walk to her death. Oh, it was awfal, and the light of day now went out of his eyes and all ! reached his reached the | was inky darkness. Suddenly I joyous ha! ha Gobet.” ‘eophle had fitted out of sight the spell was kine felt the warmth come back to his limbs again and he started for the water's edge, mak- ing for his boat, which had been pulled up on the sand. Tatiana’s voice calling for one of the children now reached him and again a myste- rious fear and trembling came upon He rattled the oars so as to drown his wife's voice. Inan_ instant he was out inthe stream and s few vigorous strokes landed him on the other side. He felt like a thief caught in the very act. His cheeks burned with shame, but a glance up and down the river him. It was late. Everybody had gone home. He threw himself in the bottom of the boat and listened. Some ‘one was calling him. Hark! It was Tatiana. Again he rattled the oars, but. those soft, sweet tones made their way into his ears in spite of him. It was dreadful. ‘They burned him, they froze him, they pinched isa, But there came a thought w! sent zigza; rol is body a thrill so delicious a6 40 Fob him'of his very eonsciousness. She was there. Sophio was re, there hidden in the forest somewhere, | and in a brief moment she would come his way, pass close to him, stop, speak to him, be alone with him. A strange and mysterious silence now sank upon the forest and river. Rouskin could hear ‘his heart beat with such distinctness that be even caught the sound of its double stroke—a sound only audible when the ear is pressed against another's breast. The snapping of » twig made his flesh creep. He knew it was Sophie aud yet he didn’t dare look up. The footsteps caine nearer and nearer. An odor of wild flowers now reached his nostrils and then came a delicious fragrance of some herb or berry borne along on her breath. “What are you doing there?” asked the maiden iy. Now, for the time, Rouskine raised his beds | eyes. It was a raj nce, but he saw a great set. the a m i fect on the gravel walkrand the three children burst in vpon their parents with amazement pictared on th : from his reverie. “Why, the teacher, 2” said Madam Rot from her needlework; “you must 2 woman would be good encugh for us!” added the little lady with a dro? grimace. ‘A woman!” suvered Kirill Kirilluiteh. “Well, well, that’s the worst yet!” And then turning | , Rouskine remarked: “However, | Tatiana, she'll be company for you.” z repeated the wife, casting a radiant look upon her handsome children. “I have ail the co vi the new school house in hopes of getting alook at the teacher, but the dignity Of his station kept Rouskine at home. The day uatiful, and the table had been set in the ga Tne children were busy with their stroxberries and cream when every head was suddenly ‘tress was approaching the The schoo! Roaskine revkdence, Sp “Look, mamma,” whispered sly pull- ing her mother's sleeve; “doesn't she bv tike s ‘The young woman approached the family group with a quick, nervous step, but with » certain unstudied grace of manner and yet with an indescribable something in her bear- ing which might well be bo: charm. Possibly it was the shay ground which her blue-biack hair curled in thick ringlets, short and close to the head, or | the rather feariess and confident look in her large, round, dark eyes. Her skin, however, was too delicate and beautiful for a boy's face, aud when she smiled the slight tinge of mascu- Tine boldness yielded toa soft and glorious femininity. Her bands and feet were large, but so near the perfection of antique ideals that it was only apparent when they were set in con- trast with others. To watch her erect and graceful bearing, the suppleness of her slender figure and the ease with which her long limbs ‘eccomplished every task imposed upon them, ‘as the young woman, surrounded by Rouskine’s ebildren, darted hither and thither in the gar- den, plucking fruit and flowers one moment on bended knee, the next on tiptoe or springing lightly into the air, now tossing one of the children aloft, now bending her pliant figure backward with inimitable grace to keep the sun's rays from her ‘one would have was some naind masquerading i dice and skirts and likely at any moment to Dures the confining robes and bound away foward the forest with a loud and ringing Tatiana looked timidly up at her husband. His eves were noting every moment of the mys- terious stranger whom the children were fol- lowing about as if under a spell. t = beautiful creature,” murmured Kirill Kirilluitch, -isn't she, Tatiana?” Tatiana tried to answer, but the words stuck im her throat and she knew that she was turn- when sound of scampering | ing. pany I eare for. | of her head, | were pinned to her corsage. In her hand she of the fragrant herb she was cat- [ress was not buttoned evenly and a showed through the had that ruddy trans- yw seen in a healthy child after ite openin, fam © th. “Ihave come after you,” stammered Rous- kine, awed by the girl's magnificent pose and ing eye. “Who told you that I was here?” she burst out impetuoual; “I saw yo id Rouskine, fixing his wolfish eye upon Sophie's face. “But why did you come?” “Because—because—it's dangerous and I didn’t want you to do it again.” “Oh, I won't, I won't.” answered Sophie ironically; ‘you're my master.” Rouskine tnade no repl: “But suppose I want to?” she suddeniy cried out. folding her bare arms acrovs her bosom, m which they rocked tumultuously. ou surely will not desire to do so foolish said Rouskine kindly. na, get into my boat; take you | across; then you may take tea with us. I hear them call me. Come. But the man’s changed manner had no effect upon the schoolmistress. .” was her answer. “T'll not get into boat, go on, so that you'll be out of my shall not budge,” almost hissed Rouskine; “you shall come with me. The girl looked him full in the face for an in- stant, a8 a pet animal does when he strives to measure the depth of his master's wrath, then she strode into the water without even waiting to pick a pole she had brought with her. irill Kirilluitch was thunderstruck. His lips moved, but his voice sank away as he tried to call after her. With a great effort he set the sculls in the oarlocks and pushed off. Sophie was already half way across. The water was up to ber neck. Suddenly she seemed to make false step end disappear. Kouskine, with a supp: ery of terror, dropped the sculls and threw off his coat, but the girl came to the surface again and after an instant’s struggle | she regained her foothold. She was again in | shoal water. “You wouldn't get out of my way,” she called out spitefully, “now I must go home with my wet clothes on.” She was bending down with an easy grace and Wringing out her skirts es Rouskine came up with her. In spite of her efforts to shake the wet clothes free from her body they clung to her in one place as fastas she freed them in another. - Rouskine halted like one entranced. Never had his eyes rested upon anything so beautiful, so strangely and mysteriously beautifal as this of Salmacis and his other half strug- gling with her nt. he turmured with sup- your w th her gurmer “Sophie Savichna,” rm Pressed intensity ot feeling, “I love you! ae with an in- ing im | will ashamed of yourself!” Rousisine’s face became as livid as if some one had smitten him on the cheek. : foot angrily, the gedews.”’ istrean in an undettows ef tndignediony mist in an s there no sense left in the world?” Sophie now began to turn pale with rage and cold and her glare that | quick movement he dre coat off and ap- her as if to wrap the garment about er tical 2” and these words she burst out into a fit of cal laughter. Then breaking off suddenly ake ightened her beautifully slender figure and excl 2 “Leave me, leave me, sir, or I shall call your ‘As the word “wife” fell from Tatiana’s voice resounded loud and ve lobes of her ears, and now she hed to throw beck her bene: hi people », Found burned with a | home. treld Houskine eps With a ywned? Is it not my duty to save | all this her if she rdered upon insanity. At certain moments this passion took on a murderous tendency,and he yearned for an opportunity to strike’ her Savichna fad dis hie Sav: dismissed the army offi- cer from her mind, save silently to vent her ill will upon him for ‘being the cause of an illness which confined her in bed for three days. His declaration of love had not even been potent had | enough to touch her vanity. He seemed torrie roe Tk 1” she repeated mock. “T love love you!” she repeat = 9 —— ct for me! What gel would love old officer do me? married man!” But as her illness spent its force she softened a bit. After all, he was an object of pity, poor man. She was still very young. She had in love herself once with a student who didn’t even condescend to feel flattered. It was pain- fal thing, this disdain. For two weeks now she had not met Tatiana’s usbend. A vague instinct restrained her from indulging in her favorite pastime of tramping about the country. She felt that this man was doesing her footsteps. One dey, however, she forgot herself. It was a sort of half holiday— one of those saints’ days which you may keep OF not just as you please. The wenther was beautiful. The deep azure of the sky was in- tensified by fleecy clouds rolled up like great snow balls. “Come, Fekloncha,” she cried to her little ‘et’s go out and servant, a girl of fiftee! them gather flax.” Away the two went across the fields, bare- footed like the ts. A broad-brimmed straw hat, wild and rustic, shaded Sophie’s fea- tures and added a deeper mystery to her round, | wide-open eyes. There was an inde- seribable charm in the woman's personality] and it was heightened by the presence of the frail littio yellow-haired being, who, like ‘an attendant sprite, walked her’ glorious mistress. ‘The working people greeted Sophie friendly, yet timidly, for they instinctively felt Power of her strange and unique beauty. ‘The open air acted like an intoxicant upon Sophie Savichna. She stood on tiptoe and drank it eagerly in, as a convalescent might empty a goblet of life-giving cordial, and then, bending her lithe and slender body, she caught up some of the flax and burst out into song, cxroling one of the popular harvest chants. little fla nshine brigh: Kad ihowh erow to be iinen Bue and Sibe, But this flow of spirits soon exhausted her store of strength, sapped as it had been by her recent illness, and such a feeling of lassitude come over her that she was forced to lean upon the frail shoulder of her attendaut upon turn- ing her steps homeward. the sun was nearing the horizon and long dark shadows already lay across her pathway, but suddenly @ figure emerged from one ol — of night. It was Tatiana’s hus- “Sophie Savichna,” said he, ‘come and take supper with us. You have not been to see us for a long while. Then his voice seemed to sink in his throat, and with an effort he added: “My wife expects you.” . werns, covert, craft of these words. seemed to priguskine’s Swarthy fuce hardened -apd be nced nervously maid, whose presence ‘seemed to peralyze But the ingenuity of the evil doer came to his rescue. “Do you speak French?” he inquired in that hesitated. She was about to say no. Rouskine saw her honest eyes take on’ a troubled look. “Ol Sophie Savichna, I love you, I love you; do not harden your heart againit me. They were now nearing the village, and had it not been that the houses were already lighted up by the biaze of the wood fires the inmates might have seen the officer and schoolmistress together. Sophie was unwilling to take another step in , and, turning to her ttle Rouskine’s com) maid, she called ou “Ran on ahead and get the samovar ready, and then addressing herself to Tatiana’s hus- she said: “Sy in a Christian tongue. There is no need of our making use of a foreign jargon. You say you love me. ‘To pronounce such words is to insult me. If your wife suspected such a thing she would wich me dead, and as God is, witness I wish her no harm. Go, Kirill Kirilluitch, a married man owes his whole allegiance to his wife. If what you say is truc Tpity you, but I éan do nothing for you. I'm on my way home. Return to yours and pray God for help.” It was now growing dark. Rouskine seized Sophie's hand. It was almost crushed in the convulsive grip with which he clang to it. The woman struggled to withdraw it, bat it ‘was impossible. “Listen, Sophie Savichna,” he pleaded pit- eously. “You do wrong to mock at a man who Bu “If I were handsome,” he whispered half threateningly, “if I were young you would not repulse me.” “Before high heaven I swear that I would exclaimed Sophie. “You area married man: that’s the reason why I must repulse you.” “The only reason why?” he murmured, mak. ing a terrible effort to get the words over his "Siow can answer such a question as that?” she replied, stamping her foot with ever-in- creasing anger. “Ican only say one thing: For me a married man has no existence—he is not a man at all. “And if [had not had a wife you would have married me, wouldn't you?” he stammered out ina tone of apparent despair, the words rat- tling in his throat like the breath of a dying man, as he reeled backward a step or two, while his hands seemed to be groping behind him for ‘a sup) The wall of the building in front of which they had halted held him up or he would have gone to the ground. “How can I tell?” answered Sophie, with just an appreciable softening in her manner. “Can we tell what would happen if the world should turn the wrong way? I am an honest girl, Kirill Kirilluitch, and I will not stand in the light of any one. "You are married ends Don't le she ‘the man’s face; though be justified in doing vo. I'have n ing against you.” “Except that [ma married man?” breathed Rouskine, hurdly dering to give his words a that's it," cried the schoolmistross ‘be friends, Kirill Kiriltuite FE ie | ! iif Hd s | i ! | if Ee F if i “If she grows worse it will be quick work,” fainting fit may For several days Rouskine never quitted his wife's bedside. i wearied her and day the child said to him: quietude. wehy ans hunting? You'll get ill why don’t you go hunting? You’ / i's take exerciae. = Pap yourself it you don't take exer! man made no reply, but down his fowiing ploce and gue Fag left the hours, Tatiana soon began to mend. It seemed to be mere will power that brought about the change. “My children need me,” she murmured; “I musn't die!" ‘The first evening her husband found her out of bed his beetle brows wrinkled up and he cast 2 look of ill-concealed rage her. He had been so sure that she was going to die. But now there was no more danger. She had de- ceived him, robbed him. She should pay dearly for tolive. The doctor had said: ‘An- other such a fainting fit may end her life!’ He would do his best to bring things to that pass. Rouskine's fury now broke forth with renewed force. He spoke no word save to blame, to find fault, to condemn. The children hid away in corners when he entered the room. cha alone had the, courage to face that swarthy countenance when it was distorted by impi rage. She clung to her mother's bedside, stretching her little arms out over that pros- trate form, and took upon her stout little heart tho responsibility of everything that went wrong in the household. One day the demon which was vexing Kirill Kirilluitch’s soul moved him to strike mother and child, after which he stormed out of the room, breaking the door in his fury. “Oh, mamma,” cried Macha, wrapping ber arms around her mother’s neck, “how wicked he has become!” “No, my daughter,” rephed the gentle Ta- tiana, “the is not wicked, he is insane!” The following day Rouskine pretended not to have any recollection of the shameful scene he had enacted, and he set out for the city, prom- ising to bring prosents for all. ‘The dust raised by the army officer's britchka had hardly settled before the schoolmistress was in Tatiana’s bedroom. At a signal from her mother little Macha passed into the ad- feining apartment, ‘closing the door behind T ‘The two women were alone. and strahgely beautiful, the whitened by grief, self. All was gone save hope! That most de- licious of all earthly balms still lay at the bot- tom of Tatiana’s heart ait had_in Pandora's easket—too deep to escape. Would Sophie's visit vex or soothe the gentle spirit which was now ready to quit its earthly house. Would Tatiana believe her? A half hour went by. Macha heard her mother calling. “Macha,” said Madam Rouskine, as the child entered the room, ‘kiss Sophie Savichna and tell her we'll remember her in our prayers. Again, my daughter, kiss her aguin.” CHAPTER IIL. Every year in September a curious fete takes place at Beriozi—a sort of fishing festival. Seines are drawn in the river, and. portion of the fish taken is sent to the archbishop of the dioceseand the rest is sold and ae paid over wn as an per- quisite. The river swarms with boats and the people crowd the banks to witness this drawing of the seine, and an officer of the crown reve- nue comes expressly to Beriozi to be present at the catch. ‘is year he lodged with Rouskine and the two men left the house together, but after the first cast had been made the army ofti- ceg suddenly turned his back on the joyous tacle and returned home. . hy, my dear, what's the matter?” asked Tatiana, amazed to see her husbapd enter the dining room. . “Come and see the seines drawn,” said he, without looking her in the face. What can you be thinking of? What for?” asked Tatiana with a perplexed air. Rouskine colored up and stammered out: “Why—ah—the commissioner invites you—I don’t see how you can refuse.” Tatiana glanced at her gown. It was only too evident to Rouskine that she didn’t want to go. I'm really not well enough dressed,” the urged. jut her husband pretended not to hear. “Come, come,” he said impatiently, as the shadows deepened around his cold, gray ey u'll not keep the commissioner waiting, The one young other with hair mere wreck of her former bled as she glanced at the speak nge caprice this,” she thought to herself; ‘but possibly the commissioner really thinks that it’s his duty to pay me this compliment. And then Kirill Kirllaiteh bas been so much kinder afew days past. I must not run the risk of displeasing him.” But still she Lesitated. She did not feel phye- ically equal to th she murmured, “and I bs ze not my strength yet. I can’t walk it.” Ree have the Baek) ready foe 700," said Rotis- ine, in a voice that rang with a’ peculiar me- tallic hardness in the woman's ears; “we'll be there in a few moments. Come ‘The gentle Tatiana shuddered, for this was the third or fourth time that Houskine had spoken to her without calling her by name. She rose and attempted to cross the room for her shawl; but her body swayed and she would have fallen had not her husband passed his arm around her. It required a great exertion of will power to keep from swooning, eo did her heart sink within her. And yet she knew not why, for her place in life was beside her husband. ‘His arm was the one for her to lean upon, his wishes were the only ones she needed to respect. Not until Rowskine had lifted her into the boat and placed the tiller ropes into her han: did Tatiana come to fall consciousness. The river breeze revived lier, and es her thoughts went back to the happy ve of their early love when life seemed so bright and promising, and their boat glided hither and thither over that beautiful stream, he at the oars and she at the tiller, even as at that moment she felt her heart giving its old-time beat, and she tried to catch Kouskine’s eye so as to smile upon him. But it was impossible. His face was con- siantly averted. His dark and lowering glances seemed riveted upon the river bank as if he were in earnest search for some ‘the spot been and river banks were black with people. Tatiana saw that her husband was rowing wildly. Py f murm But the man’s ears were closed to the world. she shrieked his name would not have heard it. The demons of hell were nai their circle about him. His soul was in a1 inl ‘irlieteh!” erled the-wite tmplor- she saw her husband spellbound st 1891—SIXTEEN PAGES. - x an | How to,Arrange One's New Posses- sioner. “Good! That's right! He knocked her over- board! We saw him!” were the cries that went ‘up from the crowd. it required but a moment for the stout arms to drag the boat ashore and pinion Rouskine, Meanwh We minute after minuto of, precious time yy. Again ani sturdy divers disappeared only to eons cane handed Sophie Saviclna was now the calmest in the vast crowd. At her command a number of hot stones had been taken from the bonfire and wrapped in flannel underwear. Watch in hand, Sophie Savichna stood like an antique statue amid the sobbing, praying multitude. “One minute more and it will be too late!” 1e whispered. A Joyous shout, which was taken up and re- peated on both sides of the river, now rent the air, divers had been successful and were swimming in with the frail and lifeless body of Ronskine's wife. ‘The minute they reached the bank a volce soft as a woman's and yot round and trumpetlike rang out above the din of weeping, sobbing and cheering. It was Sophie Savichna’s. “Fall back, fall back! I can save her if you'll obey me. I'ma graduate of the Imperial Med- ical College of Perm. Fallback! Give me plenty of air and light!” * ‘The crowd made haste to obey,and forming in huge cirele around the beeutiful Sophie, from hove eyes streamed an almost colestial” radi- ance, they watched the movements of the schoolmisiress and her assistants in deep and breathless silence. ‘Themen and women whom Sophie sum- moned to aid her in restoring Tatiana to life yielded that implicit obedience which is born of perfect confidence. 0 all eppearauces Tatiana was dead. Macha wrung her little hands and sobbed, “Oh, dear little soul, come back to us, come back to us The slight and wasted form of Tatiana was first fently inclined head downward until the lungs been emptied of water; then the hot stones wrapped in flannel were’ applied to various ts of her body and the rubbing and chafing jan, reliefs being kept stationed at hand to take the of those who showed signs of weariness. Little Macha watched Sophie's face with an expression of mingled love and trust- fulness that moved the schoolmistress deeply. Minute after minute went by and yet there Were no signsof life. A.eilonce o deep sank upon the ma!titu t the low rippling of Fiver could be heard. an Suddenly there was a commotion around the body of ‘Tatiana and the crowd drew a long breath of relief. But no, the little circle had only closed in more compactly around Sophig. She was en- tirely hidden from view. Exattly what hap- pened never was known. but it was whispered yy some that the beautiful and mysterious being whom they only knew as the village schoolmistress threw herself upon her knees and kissed Tatiana’s cold and bloodless lips. But others say that it was more than ao kiss; that Sophie breathed her own pure and stron; soul into the lifeless body. Anyway. in a mo- ment or 0 the little circle widened and a loud, long and joyous shout went up: “She lives! She lives!” The vast crowd repeated it over and over in. - “Thank God! Thank God!” exclaimed a short broad-shouldered may upon whose fac rested an ashen pallor so death-like as to be startling. It was Rouskine. He was now more F inioned and at once removed from the vi In Russia justice in such matters is simple in procedure and swift in action. rE Interrogated es to the motive of his crime Rouskine replied “The unholy passion maddened me. but one thought—to rid myself of that I might marry Sophie Savichna. She had said that she would have nothing to do with me because I wasa married man.” “Then your terrible crime was premedi- “Carefully and thoroughly premeditated,” was Rouskine’s reply ina strange and hollow ith her face lightened by her mild. lustrous eyes, which looked love and forg! ness as they foll upon her husband, was into the court room by an officer. Macha was by her side and held her frail form encircled in loving embrace, % the justice solemnly, “your husband has confessed everything. Such acrime calls for a sentence that would end his life in the Siberian mines, but the ‘law in itq great wisdom decrees that certain crimes prompted by unholy passion may find expiation in the forgiveness of those who have been wronged Can you solemnly declare before this tribunal that you have fully and completely forgiven the prisoner for his terrible z “Fully and completely,” answered Tatiana in a deep, soft voice, as she rose from the chair and fixed her beautiful eyes uy j “It was but a sudden gust of passion. fixed his reason; he has always been kin good to me. For his children’s sake, as well as for mine, give him back to me.” “Since your victim sues for your freedom, spoke the presiding justice. “in accordance with ¢ provisions of the 1496th article of the pe code we withhold sentence upon the prisoner Kirill Kirilluiteh and restore him to liberty with fall possession of his civil rights.” The crowd which filled the court room broke out into the wildest plaudits as the manacles were struck from Rouskine’s wrists and he turned and caught the gentie Tatiana with his strong arms ina long and silent embrace. She saw that Lia old-time smile had eome back acain and she knew that she had saved his soul from its awful peril. ————_eoe—____ Teeth and Hair Not Indispensable. Edward P. Jackson in North American Review. With us there is, to sey the st, a strong and decided prejudice in favor of luxuriant tresses and pearly teeth. Butit is only a dice, and by no me: i . ked, rosy scalp, or in its swcet little toothless mouth. We even see a kind of majestic beauty in the ivory dome that covers the sage's busy brain. A. whi shining billiard ball is by no. means unpleai to the eve, and no-one can taney its Leaut proved by covering half of it with a coat of hair, owever soft and silky, lustrous, brown or golden. Birds had teeth once; how should we welcome a prospect of the return, a retrogres- sion, to their former semi-reptilian condition: Would you think your canary or your brilliant- hued edckatoo improved in its appearanceif the smooth, even edges of its bill were garnished with saws of pearly teeth like alittle feathered and winged alligator? The possession of a full complement of teoth has always been re- garded as an indispensable condition of perfect health. ‘To our prehistoric ancestors, who had no other grain mills than their molars, it must have been #0, and the modern soldier in active service would find his hardtack und leathery Balt beet athor unsctietuctory fare withous the nt ty wi exatnining surgeon bo property" incom cpeat Det ie constantly improving science of cookery supplies the rem- edy for the civilian, and, as to the soldi is, like his tocth, a ‘relic’ of undeveloped cit ization. The “a ATTRACTIVE HOMES. sions to Best Advantage. CHINA AND ITS DISPLAY. Cabinets May Be Decorated So as to Their Contents More Attractive — Some Handsome Small Tables—Pretty Styles in (Odd Chaire—Floor Cushions Revived. bi posers THE HURRY and whirl of gaiety of a short Washington season is upon us and every one is drawn more or less into the vortex still there is time for other pursuits with some people. At this time of going about seeing the houses of all one’s friends at their prettiest and experiencing all the novelties in the way of entertaining a rich store of ideas may be harvested for future if not present une. No matter what subject one may be specially interested in, how enlightenment and sugges- tions on that particular theme seem to come forward prominently, almost of their own voli- tion, it seems sometimes. The eye is uncon- sciously observant at times, doing jts quict work when the attention is elsewhere. 80 often a pretty thing in the way of embroidery or painting or ingenious furnishing will not only please of itself, but prove to be sufficiently inspiring to suggest to others similar effects. It_is always my habit and advice to aim at originality and when I say a thing is sugges-| tive I imply not copying the article in ques- tion, but applying an idea of a similar kind to our own individual tastes and wants. I never want to exactly copy anything and, as to hav- ing one’s own ideas, either naturalized or | otherwise, exactly reproduced by others, two | opinions seem to prevail. Some people are annoyed at having their notions appropriated by any one else, with or without leave, while others are pleased by imitation in any line and feel rather fiattered than otherwise at being a model for others. After an influx of Christmas Presents into a family there are generally or- namental additions to almost every room im @ of one kind or another. ARRANGING ONE'S NEW POSSESSIONS. Very pleasant work it is, too, making the changes among the old belongings, in order to | find suitable plans for the newer and fresher, if not always handsomer things, which swell the number of one’s possessions. Perhaps it is a mercy—though unrealized at the time—that accidents happen and things breakable come to grief, or otherwise how could we live in houses’ that fill up all too quickly? Particularly is the crowding in of new objects noticeable after a family moves into a new and generally larger house. At first noticeable bareness prevails, but no matter how cautiously one proceeds in the matter of additional acquisitions almost before it can be realized, too, the new house begins to seem op- pressively full, and a weeding out has to com- mence. Accidents step in to hasten the pro- cess, and if only the “survival of the fittest” was the law in the matter, we might be resigned. it is, however, generally the one thing we were most attached to—or we feel so for the mo- ment—that falls a victim to careless fingers or misplaced zeal. In these days of china lovers there is nothing more popular for gifts than then frasile porce- and almost every one has something new in that line to enjoy since Christmas. From the tiniest piece for toilet table use to the magzifi cent table services of Sevresor Dresden accom- modations can be found by the fortunate recip- ient. Much is written and said about china be- ing displayed as part of the furnishing and dec- oration of a dining room. I read a plea the other day for the “‘best china” to be used to brighten up the dining room when not in use. CHINA CABINETS. Cabinets, open or with glass doors, are much tal by judicious arrangement. Yellow silk i its various tones ix said to make an excellent back ground for displaying china, and cebinets are lined with it, drawn in tight plaits. Terra cotta isa favorite color with me for using at 0} h -in plaogue style, or on some open shelf or where it can be pla seen and adi To some peoyio dini ig | ments showed off to advantage on T 2 Blue of a Tull shade scems to pe dominate. in the color: ing, none of which is over bright. ilk & very soft light tone of the blue, and a ince two inches wide is frilled on all around it. Of course, many pretty aprons have been made for embroiderer’s use, tates T personally dislike: ‘aprons this dainty silk “protector” to my fancy and is so much more attractive looking than any kind of a towel, while it pos- seeses the same en folding qualities which make & towel a convenient receptacle for work. NOVEL HANDKERCHIEF CASES. Another little novelty is a handkerchief case made of two large circular pieces of figured China silk. As these circles lie out flat on the table, for instance, a small circle of cotton bat- fing, well sprinkled with violet powder, is laid in the center of each. The silk is then drawn up with a shirring thread run all around the oice and brought in full gathers and folds into the middle of the circle again, inclosing the | batting exactly asa button mold is inclosed in covering it. Where the gathers meet in the center a full bow of No. 1 ribbon is put on one, and on the other a piece of lace is gathered and brougitt full into the center, with similar bow to finish it, The two circular machets—for that is what they are—are laid one on top of the other, bow uppermost on each, and the two are hinged by | ot rather close together, | the ribbon in two pk: and ribbons are also put on to tic it together opposite the hinges, and then this pretty mouchoir is ready for its contents. It is a very simple thing to make, and different from any- thing I, at least, have seen here. PRETTY TOME-MADE BOOK COVERS. Book covers have for some time been and I have seen several pretty ones lately all home-made. same book, which seems a favorite, as these Were made in two towns far apart. One cover a very dainty one of cream white satin on the outside and pale old rose silk within, and bar- ring the front cover perpendicularly is a wide white ribbon, covered with ti olors brocaded on the white. “This same book in the other instance has covers of water color paper bent into shape and firmly glued at the ck. The edges are rough and the title of | the book and the Christmas date are in pretty lettering of bronze green on the front cover. A little memorandum book I bave seen simi larly inclosed in water-color paper covers, with design of small conventional flowers in colors, ith gold outlines painted on it, and narrow ribbon tying it together in front. A small pencil is likewise attached to the book by a single length of the ribbon. SACHETS FOR BONNET BOXES, Among the various sachets, which are used in such profusion, those for bonnet boxes of a chiffonier are among the most useful. They of course fit the boxes whether square or_run- ning the whole width of the chifonier without the dividing partition. I saw a pretty one made of pompadour silk, with palest green ground and flowers in gay colors. A pretty little bedside iable caught my fancy in a friend's room the other day. ‘The standard was the somewhat ornate style which was com- mon some years ago, in black walnut chiefly, which this iad been’ originally. This center snpport had been cut down until it was about on a level with the bed and the small top laid aside. The standard was then painted white and a top in clover-leaf shape of pine put on instead. This top was covered with white bolton sheeting and arouad the edge was a fringe of pink linen fics, such as can be bought atall the embroidery shops. ‘There was quite a bit of room on it and several pretty orna- ‘con- room with china on the walls initead of pic tures seems the more «uitably decorated. For young housekeepers whose wedding gifts have taken the form of china in many instances it is, a pretty idea to use it for dining-room decor- ation, leaving pictures,whi. a are generally less numerous, to be scattered over the rest of the house. ‘There is, of course, the objection to dilling cabinets and open shelves with the extra chins that when visitors are at table it is the very time one wishes the cabinets at their best, yet it is also the time when they have to be found, however, by. expe cious management the chi: out that a sparse supply can be show off qhite creditably. and con gaps that at first seemed fairly apy rickets seem sterdily winning their w. to favor in one shape or another, and filled with china in a di ner q only very handsome and valuable pieces are worthy of being brought into such prominence HANDSOME SMALL TABLES. Thave lately had occasion to look about for small tables, and while the holiday sales have considerably depleted the stock, I saw a num- ber of really pretty shapes and styles. The standard forms of square with shelf below, and of the table with spreading legs called Shal speare generally, are always to be found. The tor shape comes both with and without shelves. One substantial looking one had s shelf low down, and another tovard the top, which was 24 by 24 inches, thus in all giving considerable room. Very pretty oak tables come in several fenci- ful forms, oue nearly henrt shaped with upper and lower shelvesalikeand three legs. Another in oak is round witha little medallion of carving set on the top in three places, where the three legs come. _ It is small and low and most suita- bie for 2 palm or pieces of bric-a-brac. ‘The ;, | little wicker tables are in white and gold, the natural tint or pale shape E Japanese cabinet, which enables one to group pretty objects in seemingly careless fashion, thus adding to the attractiveness. ‘Turkish coffee tables are above all therage just now and are extremely picturesque where- ‘ever they are put. The handsomest ones are profusely inlaid with mother-of pearl, and this elaborate decoration is interesting to examine. One of the papers which treats of household art has mentioned various pieces of furniture made with bamboo fishing rods. One of the latest illustrations is a coffee table in this style, but the description is rather vague, doubt if it could be carried with success. PRETTY ODD CHAIRS. Pretty shapes in odd chairs are all the time being made and offered for sale. One of the newest and most attractive is called a it may fh a3 id #2 E g E f et sf i i 4 ft be 85 F i eeki | f i i aff) 4 I ! fs i i iy i z venient little table. ‘The looming Idtot. From Smith, Gray & Co.'s Weekly. is the sight of the tremendous waste of food that goes on at’ every meal. No suppose, can fail to be struck with thie, but to Frenchman it would naturally be most re- markable. In France, where, I venture to say, ple live as well as anywhere else, if not bet- there isa fect horror of anything like waite of geod oo me, yulsive thing to ba x Cape een et In th Twoas it happens are for the | flowers in all | WHY DO MEN COMMIT SUICIDE? Reasons Why They Should Walt» Bit, Until “Tthink Cat men commit suicide beonuse they are insane. Let @ sane man make all necessary preparations to kill himself and then sit down and think the whole matter over, and i opinion he will make up his mind to ve. “Custom,” said the man, “has a great deal to do with suicide, as it has to do with almost all other matters. You must be thinking of snicide im these days. for of course you do not incinds men like Cato in your list of lunatics. You must also have mental reference to people in the western world, or else you would be to call all the Japanese who commit bari-kari medmen. This would never do. Besides this, men and women, like the Christian martere, who could have escaped death, declined to do 80 —what were ther but eaicides? “They did no emselves. Others killed them, and consequently they were not suicides at all” “I wil not assert, i the man, “that what You say isamere quibble, based on the ety- mology of the word ‘suicide, but it" certaiciy is something very like aquibble. ‘To make thir little clearer I might say that no man Kills himsel?. It is the knife that he sticks into his heart, the razor with which be « throat or the hydroevanic acid that * that does the work for him. He muh: have left the kuife alone, bat so also might the mar. tyr have cast aside his | main true to his should distinct. pursues a conrse hows must inevis which course he n Feally commit smic chances, as a» kill you Yon did not because they ane men commit In view of what I have said don't sition is untenable, even per form nd yet it is trne,” continned the man, “that men have killed theruselves simply be: cause they were insune, knew the fact and dreaded to go still furth: T into the world of madness. The ow ik was too dreary, too frighttal: and many aman has sought release by hiding it from his eyes amid the shades of death. But it may easily be that the majority are perfectly mane acte com: Is it, on the thing to sit down with folded nds amid the huriy-burly of the storm or to up and walk into the house—into the ‘long away from the whole busi- ness? ‘There is something to be said on bot sides.” it seemy to me that you are taking a great deal for granted when you speak of getting out of the inurly-burly in that way. One might easil (0 & Worse storm. id the man, “but by suicide = great matter to do thus much. True fortitude of . a8 your Emerson, if you . would warn you, consists in + we do know be hampered lon't know. If @ man knows chat is uncomfortable and is pretty certain that, while in the body, ‘there is shouldn't he make fy away on the wings of the wind?" ‘As a sick man who gets no help from doc- tors turns to quacks!” “On the same pr “ ngs us to the point I sick man who goos ks seeks from ignorance aid which knowl- edge eanno is the part of ordinary suici but simply a f ft in d ike Bleicher: choore to lool of grease in a dir of men who “Yet come of them by would not ordi: amit of happiness at < the slous!: of despond th who hasn't the wisdom to draw frc the plainest lesson His happiness and whatever exe be and blows bis dali about next to nothing. If euch a man isn't a fool all classification is rank nonsense. From the very fact that be is np and down in a minute, day,a month, he ought to see that neither ces nor his invide states are of real and enduring value. Let him wait a bit and every- thin be all right with him. But according to your own show- ing everything will be all wrong again in next to no time, ““Preciscls.” aid the man, “but if thon he doem't wait for the clock to tick or « jar of some sort to the mereury and give it a bomnce. a | lors jhimeelf out instanter, he next minute. Let any man, even a normal one, observe himself closely, and be will tind that, without the slighest ‘real change in bis circumstances, tude toward them will change, and, after all, that is the only im- portant matier. The great folly of a suicide consists in the fact that he is petulant and imn- sient. is loss or his punishment is greater Tian hs can bear. "Why doeen's the foal wats and see? It is only the unendurable that kilis, and, if the pain is bound to kill, suicide will be unnecessary. On looking back be will see how many desperate conditions be las been in and comes out of, and he should take stock of himself in that light.” “But wo can $0 fore: rt ie carn tok ‘hand thromab Mine tos Or Toe tarof interes: of tears” © poetical crank, who can see anything 2 nS Jewels Found in America. From the Citcaro Tr.bune. W. A. Kerr, jeweler, New York, at the = your be i i ret i i i . 4 £ E 4 i af | i f F é i i i F f | rE i i i % i f i [fi Fe i fl 3 i