The evening world. Newspaper, July 20, 1907, Page 9

= ‘The ‘ A Sto { cS A mn WOMAN AND | HER | GEWGAWS. (Written for The Evening World.) ARY ROBINSON, ove: worked, anaemic, tam coarse, roughened fingers, spread upen the kitchen fable an old silk dress which had been one of her whe had married weary years before. John Robinson, ten Her husband sat & Wives * choicest possessions before | ! — Evening ry for ote} threadbare by use. There was no en-| ticing rustle in {ts faded folds now ax | Bary patted them with her rough fin- gers. Tima had been when John, sit- ting In the parlor of his’ sweethoart's | homa, had walted tmpatiently for her appearance, and when the sounds of its crinkiing rustle on the carpet had | Cicated her. «pproadh John's impatie heart-had beaten a quick tattoo exain: his riba and he Matenod as if to the trailing sound of an an. robe. Put the aight of old | dress the awakened no tender memories in John's | | mind. Romance, that foolish dream of | ‘hia rdatescencn,, had been beaten out of hint by the crushing blows of labor, |: and hiv*hair had whitened at the tem: ples and his broad shoulders had bowed at ths insistent demand of unremitting toll. ‘This backaching, crushing labor had also warped his mind, eo that he had become morote and’ gloomy as he thought of the many ‘men whom fate had favored with plenty of money. Har- boring these thoughts of the Inequalities of fortune, John had become m mono- | maulac onthe mubject of money, that univerral paitacea of sorrow and un- fulfiied desire Dw: onthe sub- ject coi ally John had become a very unhappy man. And so the pathos | of the old dress made no jmpression |upon him as his wan and weary litle | wife spread upon the table a ay | pattern in an effore™td turn the dress | for the fourth time into a presentable garme | much About Lab You Do.” John was aroused from his painful reverio over his paper by his wife, who! sald platntively: | on Labor Day.” John looked up from his paper ear the table reading sn editorial in| ‘John, -couldn’t you let me have| amazed. stupetied. the Labor Advocate. | money engugh to buy a new dress? I) “You want a new dréss to go to a ball The dress was faded by time and worn! want to go to the reception and ball ana. reception!’ ata he “Have you ¢ The Man by courtesy of the | Frank A unsey Scrap Book.) NCE upon a time there was a man who had a brain of Bold; yes, a brain\ of fine gold. the doctors thought \that he could not Iiv his) head " was so heavy and ap big. He did tive, though, and grew in the gunshine like a beautiful oliveaplant. Only, his Inrge head hindered him al- ays, and it was pitiful to- see, him hurt Amaett on alithe furniture” when he walked. He fell down often. One day Ne rolled down a whole flight of steps and bumped his fore- MNhead on the pavement with a ringing, metailic sound. They thought him dead; wut on Iifting him they found only a blight wound. with two cr three little Gropa of molten-gold in his yellow hair. It was thus that his parents found out that their child had a brain of gold, ‘They kept the seoret, “Thre poor-ittie fellow -himeolf had no 4dea of dt. Sometimes he aaked why they would not let ism _play with the other little boys in the atree’ “They would steal you, my reasure,answered his mother. en the little ons grew terribly afraid of being stolen; he went on play- ing by himself and going heavily from Reproduced ep: ui ——Sseem—te-room. | = aires, trum! until _he was eighteen years old did his parents reveal to him theimon- strous gift he had received trom and then, because they had reared and nourished him up to that time, they Masked, in return, a little of his gold. - ‘The yodth Ald not hesitate a moment. ‘That very hour—though how, by what means, the story does not say—he tore from hie head « solid nugget of gold as farge as a walnut and threw It proudly to his mother's Jap. Z Then, completely dazed by the riches ohe-earried—in. his head, mad—with—-de— ak with tris power, te-tett his father's House and sallied forth into the fworld to jwasto’his treasure, * ‘For a ttmo he lived royally and ascat- ‘Rott to right and tet, uid have said that his brain hauatible. But none the less it itself; and ilttle by little one Gay—it was the morning Gebavdh—the unhappy man mmelf alone .with the remains it as the stare went out one terrified at the enormoua hole ad already made in his troas- as time to call a halt, When he was born | “{ He gave to_ ‘ WITH THE BRAIN OF GOLD * & & By Kiphonse Daudet. « we Then began a new existence. The man with the brain of gold lived by himself and worked with hils hands, suspicious and feartul as a miser, fice- Ing temptations, trying to forget that fatal wealth he was resolved never to touch again. Unfortunately, a friend had followed him into his solltude, and that friend knew his secret. One night the ‘poor man was awak- ened by a pain in his head, « terrible pain. He sat up bewlldered, and saw in the moonlight hia friend cnaking off with something hidden under his cloak. it was another bit of his brain gone. Shortly after that the man with the} brain of gold fell in love, and then it wee really all over with him. He loved with all his heart a llttle fair-halred woman who loved him back, but who loved better still pom- pons-and white plumes and pretty gold a drunken man. In the evening, when the shops were ighted, he stopped in front of a larg window where was dispinyed a great profusion of stuffs and garments shin- ing in the Nght. He rtood there a Iohg time gazing at a pair of little blue satin boots edeed with swan's-down. "I know some one who would love those. boots,"’ he said to himself, for- getting that the Ittle wife was dead, and he entered the shop te buy them, chant heard a’ereat cry. He ran to the spot, and drew back in horror to see > man leaning against the counter and looking at him sadly, without a word. In one hand he held the blue satin boots edged with swan's-down and blood, holding some scrans of gold at tho ends of the fingers. “We are very rich, aren't wet’ she used to say. ‘And the poor man answered: “Oh, yes, very rich. a part of themselves, for the most trif_ing things in life. day is anguish, and weary of sufferings— when they are tassels on her boots, Such {s the story of the ian with Inthe-hands of this Iittle créature—| iy) hrain of gold. half-bird, half-doll—the bits of gold? AMT EST melted away yery pleasantly. She WAS/—y) eoite of its fanta form, this | (allot comrices, and he could! not. sus | cnn. jal true from bexinning to end, no to her, so that, to the very end, he There ure unfi ate beings tn the | hid from her the sad truth of his £0F- | world who ate compelled to b tu x | thei ‘ains, and pay In Gas Kod, wi For them, every | i / if IW ii ‘atl! iw 4 i} +4 jo Juana tote Bt De i | or As |i , entirely lost vour senses, Mary No, John," replied | Mary, "but I have had a notion for several | weeks that I should like to go out and meet my old friends as we used to |mect them before we were married. |It.does not seem unreasonable to-me. Pit am getting along in years and [haven't been to a place of amusement since we were married. Of course, I [have been to several funerals, but the: jwere sad and gloomy. John, T want to go somewhere whery there is ght and music and laughter,” 2) mon, with impassioned gesture, Mary resumed: “Oh, the work, work, work, from + o'clock in the morning! ‘The labor The going without the necessaries of life which other people haye, which all our nelghbors have! The squeezing and pinching and sctap- |ing to wave a few more dollars! “I hate lit, John, and I wish that fromething | would happen to that $3,000 we have and self-denia. | saved in the bank, «0 that wo would go |back to that charming time when we | were married and you earned only $10 Ta Week, and we were happy, so is At the back of the shop, the mer-|Jonn, and thla old dress was now'——|you, Haven't you got a good position? Mary. Mar; exclaimed never heard you talk like this hy, John, | betore | “No,'" said Mary, “I have never said anything to you about it, because 1 [thought it would hurt your feelings stretched out the other, covered with | You are always talking about the rights} put th h men who ave. bu | of labor and finding fault w than you you have more money | and putting halt of At | never-tse tt H Ike to have a few t that those dollars would buy. Oh t_wicked money and that awful labor to get it! Here Mary became choked by excess of emotion and gave Jolin a chance to ‘put in a contemptuous remark: 2 } gently, | do you know about labor? | "You talk lke an {dlot, Mary. What | “What do I know about Iabor?"re- plied Mary fn a rage, “I want you to understand, John Robingon, “that 1 know as much about Jabor as you do, and half of that money that you have ‘saved in the bank belongs to me, < I had what's coming to me.” Here. Mary neized the dress and pat- itorn_and threw them angrily upon the | floor, where she stamped vigorously |upon them: then coming around the | table she ralsed her right arm, thrust- |ing ft in her astonished husband's face, vhe pulled up the sleeve, exposing a Umb from which the flesh had evident- ly been worn away. Moving his chalr backward from wife's tragic man- ner @nd tmpassioned face, John mado. A feeble effort to stay her torrent of speech. “You need not try to stop me, John,” she sald. “For yeura: thie wrong and Hinjustice and Ybur’ Indifference. have been bofling and bubbling in’ my heart! l¥ou—tatk about the rights of labor, [Don't your fellow’ workmen like you? What do your professions about the | ignts of labor mean? Simply a whees- Ing and snarling about men who have Tmore money than yourself!" | John arose hastily to his feet and © chair between himself and nis angry wite, down,’ to hurt you, -about tabor? getting up at « to cook your break | she sald; “I am not going You ask mo what I know | five o'clock in the morn) ast? And whoj ‘And he smiled lovingly” at the tise; bluebird that was eating away —hie-tite bo innocently. But sometimes he was afraid, for he wanted to save. Then the Ilitle wite danced upto’ him and | aid; “Husband, you are so rich, buy me that beautiful thing.” ‘And he’ bought her thing. 5 ‘Thia went on for two years; then, one morning, the little wife died, without any one’s knowing Why, Just asm bird dics, A * ‘The treasure wa! almost gone. With What was-tett the wilower pre pared a splendid funeral for bis be- loved dead, All the bella were run; there was a Jong procession of carriages heavily “draped In” timck,—and~ tears ot silver on the velvet of the coffin—noth- ing seemed too much; for who would spend his treasure now? ohure! pall- bearora, to thn floriste who made the wreaths of {mmortelles; #o that on leay- ing the cemetery there remained almost nothing of his wonderful brain except a fow particles that clune to thé walls of ‘his nead, ‘Then they saw hini go away, down the street, his eyes wild, his hands held ont in front of him, staggering lke t Ce DID YOU SEE ARTHUR LAST NIGHT, MARIE? OW YES-WE HAD A. LOVELY TIM: ‘CE CREAM AND CHOP. SUEY ON Gb STREET — the beautiful _———— caisson of George Munro's Sons,) 3 OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS. mm Bertle Cecil. of the Hitat Lite oyalieu. 1é sy roy of 5 ru neat excl ingly Mie Tekan Yinsnense favorita’ with . Bpeadine like & Kink: fy" pointless, he. haa hes ub fe conauctibg « placanic 4 for Roel aia Guenevere. mo. driv t. Ther, horses run away j river. i <a, CHAPTER V; f @ontinued.) ‘Point of Honor. aid could) come; not a ing soul was nigh; the dtudewas ss complete ab & woatern prairie ptretahed hom, these were only the otil! Oida’s Splendid Her . but here, behind them, hunted Death, and shadowy night, the chilly silence, tho distance with an unerring eye and, ‘on which the beat of the plunging hoofs shattered like thunder, and the gilsten of the flowing water growing nearer and nearer every yard. ‘Ths tranquillity around only jarred more horribly on ar and brain; the vanishing forma of tho antleved deer only gave a weirder grace to,the moonlight-chase whose Boal was the graye. It was like the midnight hunt a¢ter Herne the Hare The animals neither saw nor knew | and he would have fallen head down- what waited tiem, as they rushed down ward beneath the horses’ feet, But on to the broad, gray stream, veiled | ho had ridden stirrupless and saddloless from them by the slope and the screen | ere now; he recovered himself with the of filckering leaves; wave em | supplenere of an ‘Arab, and, firm-seat- there was but one chance. and that so ed behind the collar, with one” esperate that it looked lke middness, crushed between the pole and Maras It waa but @ second's thought; be gave | “vijio’e funks, gathering in the ribbons {t but @ second’s revolve, Vil they were tght-druwn as a bridle, ‘The next inbtant he stood on his feet. Pac nati wipes LGU Ria itot eat ike an the carriage swayed to ans graye in hand befere th: Ud pl the turf, balanced hitnselt marvelously |Soue inte the ates te aot -stegwersd in that furicus gallop | His wrists were wrenched Ike pulleys, hard in the grtp of his teath,, measured alt the science of the old playing-tields of his Eton days, cleared the dash- board and lighted astride on the back dt the hunting five-year-oid—how, he could never have remambered, or have told. h ‘The tremendous pace at which they went swayed him witha lurch and a reel over the off-side; a woman's cry mang again, clear and shrill and ntral Office crouching’ his body for the spring witti | Agonized on the night; @ moment mire) (WRONG NUMBER? THAT'S THE NUMBER You the flesh off my bones to gratify your miderty greed, your selfish carsiessness? Has there’ been any dignity in your treat Ment of the wife whom you swore to Talk about the dignity of labor! A Story for Dignity !n- on her best gown and deed! You want other mn to dignity | of powder eta Stipe! ftushed Sheets, ia |you-tn their treatment of you. but lown the stairs, aie tots |ien't your wife wortiy of deoent’re-| claimed; “et Mer Rus ne a é | wpect, Ist alone dignity? You men have| “wy, Mary, you do not intend to » It ie lb ‘a lot of catch phrases, which ‘you use| go out at this hour, |decause you foollshly think J will in- | Srease your standing in the community. | Throw them away, John, and bea man j Where are you ng?” “John Roteawoe tae: | the world to find’ out 4nd ell women share the dignity of labor Good-night and good. lahed tato the night. John Robinson was had ted’ to be. He Vhe kitchen and ut his tuntil £ o'clook 1 , Cie pane it to ded 6. ati houre long trade: He had) loved hla iittie sine by his w onsiaught| a sleepless night, he’ ral seconds before he Nir. Dut he wae without « fe felt whurt by | ho went back hoping ke felfnness| | Dut thers war no" 0 had made/#0le him and the stove was cold. ho, did not| Another night of anxiety follé e Argument, |John had not eaten for twanty f refute her|and he felt faint. ‘Then a reward, $100 was sont out dy the police, gether with m minute description of th hen he returned the necond night ix house, He opened the kitchen : nd naw the old lamp shedding tealiiete como rays. } Beside the table sat Mary. As ho devoured S rae d her with his Sit down, John, dear. I'll hevi chops and potatoes ready in. fr minutes. You are earlier than 4 £3 ae j and give me the ten dollars to buy my dress, and if you really mean to turn) ayer a new leaf, you may buy me new hat anda pair of mousquetaire Sloves, that's x. dear. Here Mary ran out of bi down, while her husban that look of 4 |worn during her been 20 crushe: that tt wa recovered comp: many of th afd meanness, against him. | Man-ltk {think of the juatice of hin only desire being statements. “I am very sorry that you have shown such a temper to-night.” he| anid. 8 to ypur request far a new bat and a new ldtesa and other fol-de- jh! rola, that im utterly out of the ques- Hon! Here you are, a sober, sensible} Woman, and now you want to decorate yoursolt out Itke a ballet dances, But'T} Will not give you one dollar which you want to squander on cheap gewgawa.” ‘After the excitement of her fiery out-/ burst Mary had turned very pale, But which t straight in the eye and said: “John Robinson, am I to understand that you refuse to give ma $9 out of the $1,500 whioh have rigbtfully earned?” “Mra, Robinson,” replied John, couple of old fools. But when Mary attended the “you|Day ball, a week later, not even have understood me perfectly. T Will mon the parmnbrokers wife could shold lye you one dollar, one mmall lighted Christmas caper ‘Robinson went out of the room.|her in the sheen of her garment putiths perfection of thelr ft, @ « AMARYLLIS = = ~ By Martha Pic@ulloch Williams. s (Coorrteht. 1008, by T. C, MoCMure.) M would become ago—to be exact, until the Grantley ‘girl. me in a moment: | Myrtitla stood In front of a big fire- Who ts it that Has been! piace in the south parlor when I went, ad My" thus, ner~eyes-tntentl, upon the smouldering logs. to fixed YRTILLA 1s tall and twenty, with a child's foot and a.turn of the head and neck that an empress. We had been engaged until two weeks te of the Verinows’ ball and the episode ‘of the At | to look into her golden-tawny eyes Then L_knew I had won half a point. It she had been as angry as ahe be- Heved herealt tobe she would hay: marched away with her nose in softly, ‘Poor creature. she is 1 She thinks you are no mo az ily tlooming in na pot. We know! bet- °F, of course.” “Really I did not dream you had so |muoh Imagination,” air. Myrtilla said out- z a right, sipping her thread as she spoke, I began again, formally, “Miss faa piesa Bap one: panterer at . i Grey,” but stopped short. She had |lis, saying, ‘Imagination ts a sf begun to whistle over her work softly, | {ups sometimes, I am glad. Amal Sit. moditatively, as though she knew her-|nover see in ordinary clvilities to a self to be alone. pretty irl anything to turn your lovely The ball ts anclent history now, ‘be- Kolden-tawny eyes «reen.” on if vette eilas with Something happened then. I am |" woneing or sitting out other sides it has really nothing neither poet nor romancer, but my|number, I suppose, com inder “the the case, I left off danotng—with the |ranging aye saw in the south window | head of ‘drdinary clvilitie Myrtilis Grantley girl at 4 A: Mo=to fling MYWeIT/@ creature of tropic charm, slim and; "Y "kane om quinive, “And even If you Into tweedy and set forth upon e week's [tall preen-gowned as a wood TYMDD, | felt hurt, you would let me explain, The Journey. with wonderful golden-tawny eyes, and | Verinews have hearts as ble as their x eC & crown still more wonderfully red. | fortune—thus {t happens 1 owe. them Coming bome from it T found my table;| As 1 went to her she shivered and set | what money, can never pay. Not ao er n gown jefensive- | many years back there was a big flur joumbored with my letters to Myrtille| ty Dit F paid’no heed to tt—only sald | tn Pha StS uae ae esate down to the most fragmentary note, Soyoualy : the worst mort of a hole. It needed a coo! I ronsoned that 1f Myrtiila had cared |” “Amaryiiis! Feal godsend! | miliion to get him out—and a Verinew i 80 ee any one In| million did it. Yet the governor was eujouRi Lor ines tk MMAD Hiern eae alleen alles hardly an acquaintance. Verinew learaed Ume, she could not give up caring for) yryriiiia's head came around so that) his oxtremity by chance ang came to his because, as he phrased It, ha didn’t I saw her profile out of the tall of my the other sido was putt! jeye, I fancied she stared, but dared ne UD ‘pot’ make gure of it. My wood nymph | 3 not lessen the obll= © barely no@#Pd—her tremors were all milion back, plus 9 ret reat ape Aeotva tel eer ow. in ventually the Grantley nd randdaughter—an~ on: x A ime. Venaew | r Wirt eevernt-mitttons— ea } lL Not a word was sald regarding her’ 4 ) L that hae patiently oorne all your|my ertrance she started ever so IRtle, |TAN, eal lena inataleaten i alee sea phiints about your bad Tuck!| turned her head Uso Teast bit, andvkept | eccble SVustencthen tell me vityout Sues to. seem ae young ag thelr fone} Who {s {t that has’dono your wash-|on ng in. the think I quite deserve what I km get-| 2" They wanted her to be the belle | Ting in order that you Way suve-m-doitar{—“atyrtiias——t ed. _irresolutely, | tin: ae cry fot fhe ball she. wey shy. and sensitive, | , ‘ 01 g vi d ned “half “out, SRLS my or two a week? Who Js tt that Das/my hand till on the doorknob trom Myrtiiars chuir; but Syrtitia her | Avene een ceed Cate j [Gone all the scrubbing of floors and| She sat down and took up her em-) self sat atill, A T don't at all wonder at that,"’ sald m | ; [Semtat work of every, kind, wearing | broldery, her face still Curther averted. | “Don't mind her, Amaryllig.”” I sald) voice trom the freplace. Mtl eC “L bowed gravely and resumed, ‘Wren : ahre ta pot, frlehtened: sha. ie pretty: maryliis, Her headds endidl: fom =. Poin gs co : By R. WwW. Taylor's agile so Tad_aw-yours She tx ght | ry = SSS = ter foet—tos and loves ts wanes 0 ° — a¥ well ax the oweru do, ‘The trounle ONLY THING 15 I'M SLEESY “THis MoRNiNG! DIDN'T GET HOME UNTIL MIDNIGHT! THEY'RE. BusY— 4621 RIVER 15 Ix, riythms she must lean heavily ¢ haa not yet quite caught tho must move ‘to, 80 nada PRO her. part: araaty GEE! 1 Wish THEY WoULDN INTERRUPT | AS [ WAS ITS SOMEPN FIERCE ! stood: some of the others di under; f ono was flurried; Oce: See he was ashame! ning with her {n spite of the mitiiors. At her first ballt ‘Pain of \ 1 to take away the sting afiit somehow. Perhaps I did seem devoted. but—rhe—fitn't—mistinderstand —1 tet bout Myfilia in our very fire A ltttle inarticulate, ery from the ifira: side here. Covertly I eaw tears on Myrtilla's cheeks. She made as thouxh to rise, but sank back, turned away her head, and resumed the furious stabbling with her neodte..I gathered fio Kreenary of Amaryllls In my hands, laid” my cheek agalnat ft, and said drenmily: o i tY “Amaryiils, tell me why I am fated love dusky hair? All the painters “junc poets—ngtee—that red—ts—-evey much more beautiful’? ¢ “Are uM eure. quite wure you. do love {t?' “Myrttiila asked tremulously. She was not answered in words, | Five minutes later found us sidé by side, looking down at Amaryllis througa Sunshine grown suddenly and magically STE ment ie warm and golden, 5 i Under Pe - <p a {n the léap whioh had seated him across the harnessed loins of the now terrified beast, #0, he rink tee afresh fo get the mastery now, (} slacken them, tur them ever ao slightly and save the woman he loved—loved, at least in this hour as he had not loved her) before. One moment more, while tho half-mad- denod beasts rushed through ‘the shad- one moment mol ti) the river stretched full before erm in all {ts Jength and breadth, without ~a living thing upon {ts surface bo break the acti: band swful calm, one monient-—and the force of cool command conauered nd maselves, Tie vole, tila and alackened speed Almost Unconscious the ‘carriage, mare ghecked a lied int 8 full elgat of y ‘ood erect, Dawing the oir Bones aed white over } cy Two flags By Ouida , | | plunged blindly in then with a crash her feet came down Upon the ground, the broken harness shivered together with a sharp, metallic clash} snorting, panting, juivering, trembling, -tho pair stoed passive and| vanquished. ‘he carriage was overthrown; but ¢! hand fearless courage of the poeress bore her unharmed, even a4 she Was fung out on to the ylelding fera-grown ty fair’ ag sho was in every hour, she had never looked fairer than a6 he swung himself from the now powerless horses and threw himself beside her, “My love-my love, you ore snved!” The beautiful eyes looked up pair | unconspious; the danger told oun her | now that i was past, as it does most | ommonly with women, 1 "Oaved!—lost! AML the world must ‘know, how, thet you are with me thie pits pw je murmured A Bhat + | Nea “for thew ang ber 0 Braves Danger and Death to Sa first thougit was of selt. He soothed her tenderly “Hush—be at rest. There te no in jury but whet I can repair, nor Is there ve a Woman’s Life her;*he had been by months together at Lyonnosse most years of the opsldy lfe, und had been gentle to her xa ho was to every Living thing, though’ he had noticed ‘her seldom, | midst of this radiant whirlpool of | ex-; | travagance and pleasure, where every» man worth owning as auch was ht | friend, and every woman\Whose smile ed Tyan Pett i 5 the ‘aceldent. Heim tmes ng one | he cared for Welcomed him, he knew pittastas his thobghts ‘retee telttue te shall ever know. of his, You shall| himself as utterly atone, as utterly! pv the name sua generally bored, faih reach town safely and sione- nat! Goomed as the lifeless Prussian lytng| alone? Where are your playmat) sa pat ee POT eee ta Tonys. tour |im the dead house, No ald could serve) itetite Heike,’ jvilva \mperial uttia |hours of his life so Durled phat, how-| ttm, for {t would have been but ti Peed ent her delicate head—a very: lever much ho needed, he nalther| lower yet to ask—or—to take it; nO|delipate head, indeed, carrying Itself should nor could account for them. | power oould save him from the ruin|Tyally, young though it was. which in & few Gaye later, at the|, Ah! you know I never care for chile | arent ot ~ : furthest, would mark him out forever| “S's o1a “ao ‘aisdaintully. yet Ay CHAPTER VI. | an exiled, begwared, perhaps dishonored | sincerely, without, @ touch of affects= man—a debtor and an allen. ) ny fat #0 ennine ee Gal eanrets on of a matured ard. contemetuotn The Debt. | A soft touch came on bis arm mw he/ opinion. that even in that moment iit ADEN was at ite brightest. The Mat there; he looked up, surprised; be-|amused him. She did not watt an al Vioterie, the Badlscher Hof, the fore him stood a dainty, delicate Iittle| ewer. but bent nearer with an teinite Stophaniy Bauer, were crowded, frm, all gay with white lace, and) PLT MAMAS vnowe ot ate a0 tephaniy Ba ro ; 5 my Ww varie brofderies, and rose ribbons, end foat-| vexed, are you not? It was 8 o’élook; the sun was alan ity aay you te ing batr fastened backwanl wth a we lost @ll your money t the west 1 endor, “4 FE ee ee eee eeerecy, olden fillet: It was that of the ittie| “De, they? They are not far wih, golden ‘glow, and tipgeing to bronze, L@dy Venetia, the pnty daughter of) “ijn he gave a lone stmt. lookime the dark ‘masses of the Black Fores In another hour Cec] \party,, where all that waa highest. fai ‘est, greatest, most powerfy) and mot bewitching of @Very nationality repr @onted there would meet; and in the as the expected guest of a Russian prince at a dinner the House of Lyonnesse by a late mar | parhetically at him. with her head ox is fi Grace, ht: id | On ide and her lips parted: “I heard Fg Gee ee ike plays) the Russian gentlemen saying thaty yous thing of 6 . Wavaly boceher, | Wate-ruined. "Ja that true, too?” Yo] waethed Aiced: te Belge’ wrth het} 20%, deat,” he answered wearily, fumare sLapmon betore thinking ttle of the, child in the ‘dese a an im-loye ‘with ts @allant | Derate excess to. 5 his lige kad. eh i aodecing sot seatied aa En Be Continued) | ihaiey: ere icone aE eur nt ‘ ae one impertinent. And | j dial Jae fash. j