Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, July 9, 1904, Page 7

Tom Gallon CHAPTER Xlil—Continued. The good little professor, without saying a word to anybody, accordingly started for the great house he had seen more than once in the distance among the trees. His belief in human nature was strengthened by the thought that the person he had to see was a woman, and young; wickedness in the eyes of the professor could scarcely be associated with any one who had those qualifications. He was quite certain, in his own innocent mind, that the matter simply wanted a little explaining, a little appeal to the real goodness of human nature; and he would be able to return to the proper owner of the estates and inform her that all was well and that the mat- ter had been arranged. Precisely how it was to be arranged, or how the usurper was to be persuaded to retire, the professor did not know; but al- ready he saw himself the center of an amazed and admiring group, the while he calmly directed Grace to walk up to the house and take possession. Full of faith in himself and in every one else with whom he was connected, Prof. Tapney came to the house; and the better to keep up appearances for a time, and to reassure the lady he had come to see, asked for her by the i name he knew was not hers. “‘Say, if you please, ‘Prof. Tapney, | t | have put right what practically seemed ate of London and Southampton,’” he smilingly, to the servant, who looked in some distrust at his shabby attire. “Be careful to say ‘Professor,’ ” 1e added. Joyce wondered a little who this new visitor might be, but decided to see him; she was more than ever mys- tified when the professor, walking deli- cately into the room on tip-toe, as though he feared to be _ heard, ap- proached her with his head on one side and a finger on his lips. She took him at first to be some amiable madman, and was relieved to see that he was mot very big; but she wondered what part he was to take in the conspiracy against her, when at last he began to speak. She was not exactly surprised, she was only on the alert; she had to fight so many people, and to meet so much greater opposition than any she had foreseen, that she was prepared for any stranger she might meet to de- clare that he or she knew something concerning Grace Yarwood. “My dear lady, I am a student of Nature, and also in a sense a secret ambassador. My errand is a secret one—and, in a sense, I come from Na- ture to speak in a natural way.” “What do you want to speak about— and who are you?” she asked sharply. “Prof. Tapney, as has already been announced to you,” he replied; “and I come concerning a certain young lady who bears the name of Grace Yar- wood.” Indeed?” she said, with a laugh; “there seems to be quite a number of people interesting themselves about me. I suppose you know that that is my name?” she added. “Now, my dear young lady, will it not be better to treat me—a student of Nature—in a more frank and open fashion?” pleaded the professor. ‘You have mistake?—in coming here; you may even honestly believe that your name ts Grace Yarwood; for my part I must assure you that it is not, and that you are quite wrong. That little mistake on your part naturally causes some in- convenience to the other lady, who asserts that she is Miss Grace Yar- ‘wood and that you are not. I trust I make myself clear?” “Perfectly, thank you,” she replied, with a laugh. You are the most naive and remarkable person, Prof. Tapney, I have ever met.” “Ah, I thought we should get. on well together,” said the professor, rubbing bis hands gleefully. “Now if I could only go back to my young friend and tell her that she may come in here, and that you will gracefully retire— “Oh, of course, any little thing like that,” broke in Joyce. ‘May I ask in the name of all that’s wonderful who you are?” “A personal friend of the young iady; a man whose sole desire is to do good to his fellow creatures. I ven- ture to say, my dear young lady, that if you had known Mrs. Tapney—my wife—for some nineteen or ‘twenty years, you would have the same de- sire, and would be filled with the milk of human kindness. She will be as pleased as I am that you should rec- tify the—the little mistake so hand- somely. Good morning.” “Stop a minute!” exclaimed Joyce, es the professor was darting out through the door. “How did you learn this extraordinary story?” “From a gentleman—apparently wery excitable by nature—who came and told the young lady’s guardian (or 6o, at least, I understand), that he was prepared to be the one witness neces- sary, and that he could prove that you were not—well, not all that you pre- tended you were. I believe he didn’t put it quite so crudely as that; in fact, I was given to understand that he was & most gentlemanly man and rather handsome. Perhaps you know him?” “Oh, yes; I think I know him,” said Joyce, grimly. “We're quite) old friends.” “That's capital—that’s splendid!” exclaimed the delighted professor. “It’s what I’ve always said; come to the goal goodness of human nature and you OL) OOOOOOOOOOORoOGoO0DOOoRB00O4 made—shall we call it a little ; could do away with all the harsher methods in five minutes. My dear lady, henceforth I shall quote you as a living example of my wisdom. Good morning again!” “Qne moment, please,” said Joyce, amused beyond measure, despite the seriousness of the situation by her-ex- traordinary visitor. “Do I understand that your—your friend who claims to be Grace Yarwood—will come here to claim her fortune?” “As a mere formality—yes,” said the professor. ‘‘And if I can persuade you, on that occasion, to shake hands, it would be—” . “Never mind that. Will she bring the person she calls her witness?” “Again, as a mere formality—yes; I will persuade her to do so,” said the professor. “We have no wish, I'm sure, to hurry you in any way, because you have been most polite—most obliging. What would be a convenient time?” “I am going to London to consult my lawyer,” said Grace, slowly; “by all means bring your—friend—and her witness (be careful about the witness) three days from this time. I shall be quite ready to receive her—or any one else. Now you can go!” “Extremely abrupt young lady,” murmured the professor, as he left the house, “but most obliging. How pleased they will be to think that I incapable of being put right at all! It is clear ‘that I haven’t come to Nature for nothing.” Joyce Bland scarcely knew what to make of the professor’s visit; she set him down finally, however, as an ami- able madman, who was not seriously to be reckoned with. She was deter- mined, however, that the matter should be brought once for all to a crisis; there should be no more dallying with unseen foes. The girl should come there and should bring Owen Jaggard with her, and she should be met final- ly and disposed of. She had absolute- ly no proof; she had to rely at best on the protestations of a man who was. badly wanted at the other side of the world by the law; on the other hand, Joyce had already convinced the pow- ers that held the fate of Grace Yar- wood in their hands that she was the veal woman. There could be no going back now, and she would show them, once for all, that this penniless girl was striving to obtain what was not hers, “If it comes to the worst, I have only to declare that Owen Jaggard has ev- ery reason to hate me, and that he has only spoken out of revenge; I shall be quite frank about the matter, if neces- sary, and shall dispose of the girl and her witness at one blow.” The business that was taking her to London, however, was of a different nature, and she brooded over it a great deal during the journey to town. She had already been informed that, the house in London was not ready for occupation, and in any case there were no servants there to look after her comfort. She went again to that quiet hotel, in a street off the Strand, wherein she had lodged on the occa- sion of her first coming to England. "~~ --a would be time enough for gaiety & display when she was more firm- ly established, and when all these trou- bles and worries were at an end. She sat in a corner of the drawing room of the quiet hotel that night and pondered matters. She had lied so successfully and so boldly that it had become second nature to her; almost she had persuaded herself that she was Grace Yarwood, and that she was fight- ing, not against the woman whose place she had usurped, but against an impudent imposter who had no rights at all. Above all, she was fighting to obtain possession not only of what she had stolen, but of the man who, in a commercial sense, went with the for- tune. She could not disguise from herself the fact that, quite apart from the necessity for marrying him, she bitterly resented the idea that he had turned to the other woman in prefer- ence to herself. In her ignorance con- cerning all legal forms, she thought it might be possible that there was some way to compel him to fulfill his part of the bargain that had been im- posed upon him; hence her visit to London. 4 She wrote a note as before, making. an appointment with Mr. Stock of Chancery Lane; and she kept the ap- Pointment early next morning. Mr, Stock, looking gravely at her over his spectacles in his dark officé, was more firmly convinced than ever that he did not like Miss Grace Yarwood, and was more annoyed with himself than ever that he should have that feeling. How- ever, he contrived to hope, with as much cordiality as could be got out of his tall, thin frame, that Miss Yarwood was well, and trusted that nothing was wrong. “Everything is wrong,” she snapped, with something of the old manner she should have left behind with the Joyce Bland of Nevada. “I’ve shown myself ready enough to fit in with other pec- ple’s whims and fancies; it seems to me it’s your place to make the other parties do the same.” “IT am quite willing to enforce what is due to you from any one, if it is in my power, Miss Yarwood,” said Mr. Stock, quite convinced now that he never had liked Miss Grace Yarwood, and never would. “Will you kindly tell me in what way I can be of assist- ance to you?” ‘| the only condition, “One of the conditions of the will— D in fact—under which I can take the fortune, is that 1 should marry my cousin, Mr. Raymond Hawley,” she said. “To be sure,” said Mr. Stock, smoothly, “There was such a condi- tion, I remember. I have done what I could, Miss Yarwood. I have ar- ranged that Mr. Raymond Hawley should come down to Hawley Park and should see you. It surely is not pos- sible, Miss Yarwood,” he added, with a stiff bend of his long body which was meant for a bow—“not at all possible that he has forgotten to call?” “On the contrary, he has been to see me on several occasions,” said Joyce, biting her lip angrily. “Ah,” said the lawyer, drawing a long breath. “There, you see, Miss Yarwood, my responsibility ends. In a manner of speaking, I can merely bring the parties together; not being a matrimonial agent, or anything of that kind, my duty ceases with the in- troduction.” “But if I'tell you, Mr. Stock, that he absolutely refuses to marry me, and that he turns to someone else—some one quite beneath him—what then?” she demanded. “My dear young lady, in this world of ours all sorts of young men are constantly turning to all sorts of young women very much beneath them, and are insisting every day, with much flu- ent language, upon marrying them. To be frank with you, my dear Miss Yarwood, that kind of thing rather -in- creases than diminishes our business, If Mr. Raymond Hawley chooses. to abandon so excellent an opportunity” —Mr. Stock bent himself agzin in that jerky fashion for a moment—‘I @an only say that the loss is his own.” » “But what of my loss?” she cried, angrily. “I don’t care a twopence for Mr. Raymond Hawley, or for fifty Mr. Raymond Hawleys, but I am not going to be done out of my fortune under any circumstances. I can’t enjoy the fortune without the society of Mr. Ray- mond Hawley; therefore I must put up with him.” “Always supposing, my dear Miss Yarwood, that he decides to put up with you,” the lawyer reminded her, a little testily. “It is a question which has two sides to it.” “And do you seriously tell me that if this young man declines to marry me I lose everything?” she asked. “That is the only interpretation to be put upon the will of my late client, Mr. John Hawley,” said Mr. Stock, qui- etly. “Of course, if you have any doubt about the matter you may con- sult another lawyer; but I think you will find his opinion will be the same. You see, the difficult point is this: that if, by any chance, you fail to marry your cousin, the property goes to the man who should legally be the right- ful heir—Mr. Roger Hawley. At least, the greater part of it goes to him, with the exception of legacies to dis- tant cousins and other people. In any case, Mr. Roger Hawley (rather a bad egg, I’m afraid, Miss Yarwood)@bene- fits very considerably.” “And there is no way of compelling this young man—my cousin—to ful- fill his part of the bargain?” “Unless, my dear young lady, you can persuade him yourself—for his own sake and yours—I am afraid there is none. The man is a free agent; he is as much at liberty to please himself as you are to please yourself.” “But it pleases me to marry him,” retorted Joyce, “And it does not please him to mar- ry you,” said the lawyer. “If, to use an expression that is not legal, Miss Yarwood, your own fascinations are | not sufficient, then this very iniquitous will deprives you and your cousin of the property. I am sorry, but there is no other way. The young man evi- dently feels, in a very absurd fashion, that his love for this obscure young woman is worth more to him than the prospect of sharing a large fortune with you; but that does not affect the position. Do you think it possible that, if you gave him time, he might return to you, or at all events come to understand what he is losing—in a double sense, of course?” he added with another bend of ‘his body. (To Be Continued.) A RELATIVE OF WASHINGTON. How They Trace Kinship Back to the Father of Our Country. George Washington left no descend- ants, and the persons now liivng who can trace a collateral relationship to him are not so numerous as to be met with every day. Among these envia- ble ones, who in a land of classes might form an aristocracy, is to be in- cluded a lady of social prominence in the Metropolitan district, Mrs.. Attilo Morosino, the wife of the son of Mr. Giovanni P. Morosini, the well-known banker. Mrs. Morosini, before her mar- riage was ‘Miss Mary Washington Bond, and when she .was introduced into society she was said to be the most beautiful young woman in the United States. “She isa great-great- grandniece of the Father of His Coun- try, being a great-great-granddaughter of Samuel Washington, a brother of the general. The natural tie which connects Mrs. Morosini with the great founder of the nation is therefore the closest now extant.—Leslie’s Weekly. The Only Obligation. A story that comes from a country region not far from New York concerns a native who was seen stolidly plow- ing a field with a team of weary and dejected horses. As they approached, the obseryer of rural life remarked. sympathetically, that the horses “didn’t seem to like the work.” “Um,” commented the farmer, brief: ly, “they don’t have to like it, they only have to do it.”—-Harper’s Weekly, Musical Friend—Do you know any: thing about the laws of harmony? Mr. Newlywed—Well I guess yes Give all your salary to your wife and never try to have the last word— Blouse Waist With Bolero. Boleros are among the few accesso- ties of dress that are almost universal- ly becoming and are among the most fashionable of all garments at thé present time. This very attractive over the shoulders, which give the broad line, and wide sleeves of elbow length that are most effective over the full puffed ones of the waist. As illustrated the bolero and belt are made of antique green taffeta, trimmed with ecru lace and ball fringe, while the waist is of white mull and matches wae the skirt; but bolero and skirt ofter are made of the same material, with the waist of some thinner fabric. Silk, wool, linen and cotton are all so used and all can be rendered charming, but nothing is lovelier than the linen and mercerized materials, which are very nearly legion. The waist consists of a fitted lining, which can be used or omitted as pre- ferred, front and back of blouse, with the full sleeves, and the bolero, which is quite separate and is made with fronts, back and bell sleeves. The waist is full and blouses over the draped belt, the closing being made in- visibly at the center, and is finished with a regulation stock. The bolero is exceedingly simple and is laid in out- ward-turning plaits thqt fall over the arms-eye seams. The quantity of material required for the medium size is: For blouse, 4% yards 21 inches wide, 4 yards 27 inches wide or 2% yards 44 inches wide, with one-half yard of all-over lace and one-half yard of silk for belt; for bolero, 2%4 yards 21 inches wide, 2 yard 27 inches wide or 1% yards 44 inches wide, with 5 yards of banding and 3% yards of fringe, to make as illustrated... ‘ The patterh 4753 is cut in sizes for a 32, 34, 36, 38 and 40 inch bust measure. Raisins for fruit cake. are much im- proved by cooking. Let them soak slowly and then simmer until the skin is tender. If silver is washed every week in warm suds containing a tablespoonful of ammonia the polish can be pre- served for a long time. If unable to secure the indented and perforated round enameled ware to fit in the bottom of saucepans to pre- vent food sticking to the pans or burn- ing, keep a wire discloth to set in the bottom of the kettle. For washing tan, brown or linen color hay water is good. You make it by pouring boiling water over hay. When bread is baked the loaves should never be set flat on the table or shelf, but should be set on end, one loaf against another, and wrapped closely round with a clean cloth. This makes the crusts tender by keeping in the steam. or Oe Lace on Hats. Point d’esprit and the old-fash- ioned blonde lace is fashioned into Marie Antoinette hats, a fall of lace coming well over the edge of the brim and a garland of small flowers encircling the crown, with a deep fall of lace in the back. A dainty hat of fine white chip has a brim of tuck- ed lawn and a frill of fine embroid- ery hanging down from the brim in the back, and it has two pink satin ribbons running in and out of the embroidery and forming rosettes. Old Fashioned Pot Pourri. A genuine old-fashioned pot pourri is made as follows: Pack half a peck of fragrant rose leaves in a bowl in layers with salt, using a small hand- ful of fine salt to three of rose leaves. Let them stand in this way for five days, turning them twice dcily. This should be done thoroughly. At the end of this time add three ounces of powdered allspice and one ounce of stick simmamon. Let them rest again for about a week longer, stirring as before once each day. Now put them into the permanent pot pourri jar, mixing them first with half a pound of dried waist includes one that shows plaits. The Latest Styles in Costumes—How to’. Make an Old-Fashioned Pot Pourri—Suggestions of Value to Housewife. lavender blossoms, one ounce of bruised cloves, one more ounce of stick cinnamon, another of allspice, one nutmeg coarsely grated, a cupful of ginger root thinly sliced, half an ounce of anise seed, ten grains of Canton musk (finest quality) and fin- ally two ounces of orris root. Mix them well together and place the jar in any suitable corner of the parlor or living room. A few drops of attar of rose or any desired extract of flow- ers can be added at any time. The New Handkerchief Kimonas. Kimonas made from large, square handkerchiefs have taken a new twist this season. Instead of brilliant ban- danas and the old-fashioned combina- tions of dark blue and white, or vivid red and white, the most delicate col- orings are seen. The center of the handkerchief shows delicate pink, blue, green, yel- low or lavender, with a dainty border in pale Persian colors or Dresden ef- fects, with the color of the center pre- dominating in the conventional or floral design. Another difference in the style lies in the fact that the points of the landkerchiefs are brought to the neck line and then turned over to form a small, shawl- shaped collar. be Shawls a Fad of Fashion. Shawls are Seen in rather unusual numbers. There are enough of them, to suggest a revival of the 1830 and 1850 fashion. The silk shawls are special- ly attractive, embroidered in self or a contrasting color. Pale salmon pink is embroidered in white; dull rich ma- genta has a pattern worked in red of a deeper tone. Of course all the usual pinks, pale blues and creams are also strongly in evidence. Pongee color, with stitchery in white or yellow, is pretty and more unusual. Told in Her | B oudoir” Ashes of rose, butter color and pal- est blues and pinks are seen in pro- fusion. Big green gooseberries and little white roses combine on some modish millinery. ‘A silver cross succeeds the jeweled heart so long worn at the end of a frail chain. Petticoats of wash mohair in pon- gee’ color are attractive and service- able novelties. Those small brocaded eighteenth century “mules” are attractive foot- wear for around the house. All discord in dress is to be avoided, 4 od —_ and a costume all in one shade gains inrmeasurably in style. Ecru lawns and India linens are sub stitutes for natural linen bastiste and grass cloth, and mercerized cham pagne are substitutes for Shantung pongees and the other natural-colored silks now so much in vogue. Paris Muslin and Lace. Every woman of taste likes to be the possessor of dainty underwear, well made and carefully fitted. This very simple little corset cover is shaped on admirable lines and com bines perfect smoothness at the bach Design by May Manton. with becoming fullness over the bust and can be made so readily and easily as to commend it to every seeker after desirable garments. As shown the material is Paris muslin with trim- ming of lace, but any of the materials in use for underwear can be substi tuted and trimming can be either lace or embroidery. To make the corset cover for a woman of medium size will be required 1% yards of material 36 inches wide. To Wash an Eiderdown Quilt. Preface the washing by mending any little holes in the sateen. Then pre pare a suds with warm water and boiled soap, and in this plunge the quilt. Squeeze with the hands till the water becomes dirty, then place in fresh suds and repeate the process til! clean. Rinse out the soap in as many changes of water as necessary; squeeze out the water, shake the quilt, and hang out to dry. When dry, shake it till it is quite soft and full. On no account use a mangle or the quilt will be utterly flat looking. PONGEE AND LACE. Coats of pongee with collars and trimming of lace are eminently smart for young girls and are both charming and serviceable, inasmuch as they pro- vide just the warmth needed on a summer day. This one is exceeding- ly simple but includes an inverted plait at the back which gives addi- tional fulness and provides becoming folds. The sleeves are full and ample and the coat can be worn open o1 closed, made with or without the cob lar. The quantity of material require¢ for the medium size (10 years) is 5% yards 21, 2% yards 44 or 2% yards 52 inches wide.