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. KWCMT CF THE IICD3Y.!(0nSC. hi i r.i ti'.Krrr i.rrot,v fi'.i'i.ri. T' !' 1.1 III i!,' lai.l 1 m,!, 1 , . ' i v i i -o I,!;, rtT !, i ". I V: .11 i'l 1,14 ; , I v "V I ..-.,. i li.u, '-,- vnr;i," I I.' H,!. " if.l .,, f.,v, y ',!, '1 ' " M ' I f'l.l'l .1 t V.V), My .i'i' it (!,, ,!, v, ill t'-i!." I!n r''it!ifr v'nvcl n lut '.'(idiI! A ei I ! I', 1 ll itll CM ); i.l u , r 7 ",. i w I v,,"i ,.. ,)r(, , j 'HI' Hill V 1 ,l "if. .! cried, ii Irij.py day!" Am! II' J IH'II ) ,v ; vm-1'1 1 I ! i."v- t T i rii'intry rvnd, c wicd r rin. J 1 t V '.;! V III I!" hl-'lt inured f.r; 1'- -ii 1. "I' l i. -.t n v-1. A"l t'w' ,"i'"ii" niv ft" I ,r. 1 I V." AYii! i;i ) i : l" f i! in.'inv in They f'v.'i'd iifi tinT( (in td.'h rame on, H'i C i-!ii i;.' oyo were c'n-ci'; W'i it -in 'u-')'i:i'l lii-i charter's nrck The v.-a ni.ir icm'"!. Youth's Companion. O - O Tlii; DEAD SECRET P CCCCCCSCCCCCOO -y OW, avIh nee or 0 ? , I for what rea son lie came the peoploof Brack 1 1; y d 1 il ii o t know. lie ;vns a presence; a being av h 1 c li had obtruded Itself upon a quiet hamlet -?i-!'! IVV tunuui osicniauon ana witnout caus ing any untoward exclfeineut. He had been seen walking about the vil lage street, scrupulously dressed, and gazing with apparently interested eyes upon the various Avares displayed in the one or two hueksters' shops Avhieii .graced, or disgraced, Braekley. Some people thought him a simple tourist, "who haij paused there "while en route to other places of interest, for the tn vlrons of Braekley Avere not Avithout Interest; In fact, they wore historical. The youn; ladies of the village thought him decidedly handsome, won dered Avho he was, and the more giddy of them Aveaved romances around his personality. The cuslomers of the Weavers' Arms Hotel, Avhere the stran ger had put up, settled the question in etanter; he was an artist, who had come to do sketching around about the neighborhood, and ho Avas too shy to say anything about It. A Aveck passed, and the mystery deepened, more especially when it was known that the stranger. Infatuated with the place, had decided to stay an other fortnight. His rambles in the wood, his comings and his goings gen--erally, Avere the objects of talk, specu laton and mystery to the whole of the population of Braekley. To Lily Asbury and Mrs. Asbury, her mother, the story of the stranger Lad penetrated, but the elder lady had put the matter off lightly, and though she had observed, not without interest, the appearance of the stranger in the "neighborhood, she affected an uncon cern which was eminently in keeping with her deportment as the Avife of the trustee of the Down estate. Sir Daniel Braekley, whose name was good enough for nearly a thou sand acres of Northamptonshire's landed estates, was too much a society man to trouble, about living on his property, and John Asbury, to all in tents and purposes, occupied his posi tlon. Certain it was that John Asbury managed the estate In a manner wor thy of all commendation. lie Avas not hard on the tenants, and he Avas not too pliant. He AA'as a businesslike, fus sy old gentleman, apparently extreme ly conscientious in his master's Avel fare, was extraordinarily patriotic to the estate, and while respected by all those of Braekley, commanded not a little fear from its humblest inhabi tants- Mrs. Asbury was greatly perturbed when one day she received the 1'oIIoav lng letter from Sir Daniel Braekley: "My Dear Mrs. Asbury In the ab . sence of your husband, Avho, I under stand, is somcAvhat unwell, and has gone to Bournemouth for his health, I. mm constrained to ask you to do me a favor. My nephew, Theodore Cross told me a week or so ago that he i Muled visiting in the neighborhood X rackley, in order to look up some f titles In the neighborhood. lie ; her shy, but extremely uncon a:j' il sort of young man, and I s! ; -glad if you can do anything tt i e his stay in the neighborhood comfortable. I do not knoAV when he is likely to be in Braekley, but lf I have the opportunity I Avill let you know. Be good enough to inform me at vour. earliest convenience hoAV Mr. Asbn-is progressing." "Why, mother," said Lily, who had read the letter over her mother's shoul ders, "Crossley why, that is the name of the mysterious young gentleman who has been staying for more than a week at the Weavers' Arms Hotel That Mrs. Asbury felt cross should go without saying. Benllly, it was too bad of Sir Daniel not to have given the stranger a letter of introduction go 1! :e could have presented himself t - on his arrival. Why had the , How betaken himself to a vil . , 1. with all its miseries, instead " L ;,g to the house of the trustee tln-ro lo rnjoy the liespitality that would l,e i readily A ml' le M fi ll to a !i-,hew of the great S.r Daniel Brack- 1.-.V ? But Utile time av.'U v t In cnVrtlng AVhat W;;s ('lelili'd requisite, and tin Kiranvr, v. in had bei ;i the mystery of BraeKley village t'r at least reven days, (."ii!," shyly to tin' house of the A-ibury, and found himself ciscom-ed there, Ii) be Weleoined by a JU'of us!o:i of sijiil".; a nd apologies by Mrs. As bury herself; a naive, f.eiitle hand shake o:i Hi!' part ( f Lily; a boisterous, hearty slap n the Pjiek on the part of Tom Asi.ury, her brolher, and u Mull' but toinewhat bucolic greeting front I'mie Asbury, avIhi d 'clared he quite liked antiquarian fellows. He made himself extremely agreea ble, did Theodore Crossley. He could piay, he could in, and in this latter particular Lily Asbury found ia voice of Avondroiis charm. In his antiqua rian researches, and on Ids botanical expeditious, he avai not wont to go alone. T'neie Anbury AVouhl sometimes Join him. talking garrulously all tho lime of big shoots and what ho had done In bis army days In India; or there Avould be Avlth him Tom Asbury, who talked learnedly of London and his love of Its life, but more frequent ly there Avould be Lily Asbury, who, under tho subtle influence of till.-; suave and smiling, but always shy and modest stranger, felt for the first time in her life a feeling of affection for a man. She scarcely kncAV Iioat tho time passed, though the hours went Into days and the days Avent Into a Aveek. It seemed that he had been there months, or years, and his personality had grown to be part of hers, and when there came to her the thought that he would leave her she put it nAvay with a dread and a chill at her heart. And Avhen eventually he de dared his love for her, surely no hap pier maiden lived. It was the night before he wa3 to leave for London, and she was strange ly restless. The little clock had chimed tho midnight hour, but she could not sleep. She heard the rustle of the au tumn breeze in the iA-y on the house, the chirp-chirp of a cricket and the sough of the wind in the tree tops. But to her acute ears there came an other sound; the creak of a stealthy footstep on tho landing outside her door, and the just perceptible sound of some one breathing hard. She could indistinctly hear tho footsteps recede. Then, urged by some strange impulse, she threAV on her dressing gown, softly opened her bedroom door, and looked without. All Avas dark, save where, down on the next landing, n pencil of light stole out Into the passage. It came from the door of -what was knoAA-n as her father's office, and with soft, light footsteps she crept down the feAV stairs to the chink of light and gazed in through the doorway. She saw enough to make her heart stand still with fright, and to cause her brain to reel for a moment. Theo dore Crossley was there, his pale, intel lectual face drawn Into a smile, his brow puckered as it were in perplex ity, meanwhile that he Avas hastily ex amining and hastily selecting papers from her father's desk. He found what he evidently wanted, for he ut tered a chuckle of satisfaction and thrust the paper in his pocket, even as the hand of Lily Asbury fell upon his shoulder and caused him to fall back in dismay. The look cn her face was enough, and he could not' speak, "Robber!" she said, quietly, ber, I have discovered you!" "Rob- He recovered himself and faced her resolutely. "Lily!" he said. "You here? What "T beard vou." she said quietly. "I followed you. What have you stolen? Calm and unbroken as was her voice, yet she felt as if her heart were break lug, for in such a brief space of time bad there been shattered at her feet the idol of her life. His face, pale as ir. habitually was. seemed ashen in the cold glare of the lamp. "I would prefer not to say, Lily." She sprang to the bell rope and laid her hand upon it. "Tell me," die said, "or I ring for assistance." He faced her. "Don't ring that bell," he said quiet ly, "for if you do it will mean greater misery for you than you can bear. Listen!" He Avent to her and caught her arm. "Listen. In my pocket I have proofs Avhich mean the ruin of -t-nnv t.nr ier vour lamei uuit- ui .. . . ..I , , . f the Braekley estates, who, for years, has - been swindling, and swindling. and swindling. Oh, Lily! you think that I am Theodore Crossley, the anti quarian. I am not. My name is not Crossley; I am not an antiquarian. I am a police officer, one Avhom they call a detective, who has been sent here for a purpose." He laughed rather bitter ly. "Three days ago I had collected all the material for my purpose and proof of the guilt of. your father. The proof is here la this paper, and to morrow it had been my intention to formally seize his papers and to bring about his condemnation. "Well," said Lily, calmly, "how do I t-i"Atv that -what vou are saying is true?" He handed her the paper and she road it. Her eyes Avcre wild, aad her brcatli rnmo thh-k and fast wIhti die LanoJ It had; to him. "It H true," she paM hollowly. "It Is true, oh! my poor father!" He cimnht her as fhe Mnggored b.icic. "Listen, Lily!" he gasped, rather than said. "I enme here not to steal this paper, but I came for nomethlnj; else. I came to save your father at the risk of in v own reputation. I ramo to do this bfcnii'c, Lily, I love tow." And with that hr took the paper and held It over th lamp. It Mazed and crackled, and flared and cindered, tin- til It fell at his feet, but n black mass and In secret dead will it. lVnny notorial Mngar.lup. MERELY AN EYE WAEH. Tlio C'Jicnilrnl View of Tr PlfTVrn Trom ! l-oHlt-nl Vli w. Tears have their functional duty to accomplish, like every other fluid of the body, and the lachrymal gland Is not placed behind the eye simply to till space or to give expression to emotion. The chemical properties of tears con sist of phosphate of llmo and oda, making them very palty, but never bit ter. Their action on the eye is very beneficial, and here consists their pre scribed duty of the body, washing thoroughly that sen. Itive organ, which allows no foreign fluid to do the same work. Nothing cleanses the eye like a good, salty shower bath, and medical art has followed nature's Iiiav in this respect, advocating tho invigorating solution for any distressed condition of the optics. Tears do not weaken tho sight, but Improve It. They act as a tonic on the muscular vision, keeping the eye soft and limpid, and it will be noticed that avoiucii in whose eyes sympathetic tears gather quickly have brighter, tenderer orbs than others. When tho pupils are hard and cold, the world attributes it to one's dispo sition, which Is a mere figure of speech implying the lack of balmy tears, that are to the cornea what salve is to tho skin or nourishment to the blood. The reason some weep more easily than others and all more readily than the sterner sex has not Us difference in the strength of tho tear gland, but in the possession of a more delicate nerve system. The nerve fibres about the glands vibrate more easily, causing a downpour from the watery sac. Men are not nearly so sensitive to emotion; their sympathetic nature that term Is used in a medical sense Is less de veloped, and tne eye gland la, there fore, protected from shocks. Conse quently, a man should thank the for mation of his nerve nature when he contemptuously scorns tears as a wom an's practice. Between man and mon key there Is this essential difference of tears. An ape cannot weep, not so much because Its emotional powers are undeveloped, as the fact that the lachrymal gland was omitted in his op tical make-up. Dietlc and Hygienic Gazette. Thoreau'a Sensitiveness to Nature. Thoreau's stoic virtues withal never dulled his sense of awe, and his long years of observation never lessened his feeling of straugeness in the presence of solitary nature, says l'aul Elmer More in the Atlantic. If at times his Avriting descends into the cataloguing style of the ordinary naturalist, yet the old tradition of wonder was too strong in him to be more than tem porarily obscured. Unfortunately his occasional faults have become in some of his recent Imitators the staple of their talent; but Thoreau was pre-em inently the poet and philosopher of his school, and I cannot do better than close these desultory notes with the quotation of a passage Avhich seems to me to convey most vividly his sensi tiveness to the solemn mystery of the deep forest. "We heard," he writes in his Chesuncook, "come faintly echo ing, or creeping from afar, through the moss-clad aisles, a dull, dry, rushing sound, Avith a solid core to it, yet as if half smothered under the grasp of the luxuriant and funguslike forest, like the shutting of a door in some distant entry of the damp and shaggy wilder ness. If Ave had not been there, no mortal had heard it. When Ave asked Joe (the Indian guide) in a whisper what it Avas, he answered: 'Trea fall.' " He Sends Ills Bills to the Men. "There is a man in an Eastern city who docs a large business in babies' dresses, and clothing for very young children," AATites Edward Bok, in the Ladies' Home Journal. "He makes and sells nothing else. His trade is al most entirely with women. Up to Avithin three years ago he Avould send out to his customers bills amounting to as much as $10,000. In six mouths' time he would receive less than $3000 in return. Yet his customers all 'stood well' and Avere considered women of easy means. Then he deliberately changed his method of rendering bills, lie went over his books and found that he had some $12,000 worth of un paid accounts. He made out the bills, and addressed them to the husbands or fathers of his customers, directing the bills to their ollices. Within sixty days he had received $DG00 in checks. His invariable rule uoav Is to send all his bills to the husbands, fathers or the male members of Ins customers families. When no male member ex ists he insists upon a cash transaction." 4 . ,- Noav York City. Tasteful morning jackets are essential to comfort and well being and can scarcely be pos sessed In toogreat number. This very J JV't I 7 k tow V ' V. J- J woman's mobnino jacket. charming May Manton model has the merit of being essentially feminine and graceful at the same time that is ideally comfortable. As shoAvn, It Is made of white dimity with collar of revering and frills of Yaleucennies lace; but various Avhlte and colored materials can m substituted and nee dleAvork can be made to take the place of lace. Dainty striped materials are fashionable and always effective; polka dots and other simple all-overs are admirable and such plain colors as blue, pink and lavender are pretty when they suit the wearer. The back of the jacket is plain and terminates at the waist line, but the fronts are elongated and fall in soft A. STYLISH graceful folds. The sleeves are in el Ijoav length and comfortably loose. At the neck is a big sailor collor that is becoming to almost all Avomen. To make this jacket for a woman of medium 'size, three and three-quarter yards of material twenty-seven Inches wide, three and a quarter yards thirty tAvo inches wide, or tAvo and a quarter yards forty-four inches wide, Avill be required, with seven and a half yards of lace to trim as illustrated. A Stylish Costume. A stylish separate waist is of yellow silk of rather a deep shade, with a lit tle white at the neck, hardly enough to call a yoke or a vest. It shows a pretty contrast in blue velvet ribbon, which ornaments the waist at the front inch Avide ribbon of a soft blue, which is best described as a cadet, in a number of long bows. Another pretty waist ' is the one shown in the large drawing by May Manton. Used in the same sketch is an attractive live-gored skirt Avhich serves to complete a costume of ex ceptionable beauty. Strings of PenrJs In the Hair. London is at last waking to life, dinners become more frequent, and jeAA'ds are once more in requisition. The newest notion Is to tAvist strings of pearls in the hair, and lf this Is neatly and artistically done, the effect Is excellent, especially Avhen the hair is dark. This i3 really an old fashion revived, as a glance at books of beauty or portraits of ancestresses will easily prove. It is by no means necessary to use real pearls; indeed, many peo ple consider that contact Avith the hair injuries the beauty of valuable pearls. i I ! WAvm iiilt i 1 fa Mi mi m - ' - J' - ' .' 1 I, If ! .iriil ripliti;, A Avood colored twed, soft nnd fine. Is made tip quite simply Avlth a tailored model, and plenty of lapped seaim and row of. stlfebing, A touch of color occurs on the bodice, In the neighborhood of the white lace front. Coral pink panne velvet Is used to pljio the opening, to edge the hih Mod; collar, to border the Avrlst edge of the sleeve. There Is not too much of the vivid yet dull pink, just enough to be grateful to the eye. Coral pink Is gen erally becoming to blondes, although brunettes oftener Avtar It. A l!lt of Color on tli Jlundkrri lili-f. A suggestion of color on the handker chief Is coming more and more Into general favor. NarroAV hemstitched borders of a color matching the sum mer suit are used, and many of the French Initial handkerchiefs have the letters sot on a shield of pink, blue or green. For Voiinsr Girl. Dressmakers are making evening gowns for young girls with ruffled skirts, Avltli three wide flounces com IKising the skirt, or trimmed Avlth a I cluster of narrow ones at the foot. "Woman's Tucked Skirt TValit. The shirt waist that closes at tho back is a marked feature of the sea son and is peculiarly effective when made of fine material stitched In tucks. The smart May Manton design shoAvn is admirable in every way. The orig inal Is of white laAvn with insertion of Yaloneonnios lace and is charming ly simple; but the stylo lends Itself to many materials and combinations. The front is tucked to yoke depth only and so forms soft, becoming folds below, but the backs are tucked to the- waist line to give tho snug fit COSTUME. essential to correct style. The siccA'es are novel, and altogether charming, being laid in two groups of tucks, four each, with lace between. At the wrists are soft cuffs of lace and tuck ing and at the neck is a stock to match. As shown, the material beneath the lace is cut away to give a transparent effect, but the insertion can be put on as applique if preferred. To cut this Avaist for a woman of medium size, four yards of material tAventy-one inches Avide, three and TrCKED -SHIKT AVATST. f three-eight yards twenty-seven Inches Avide, three and a half yards thirty two indies wide, or two and a quar ter yards forty-four inches Avide, will be required. i