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! THE CZAR'S HEIR. I
THE CZAR'S HEIR. I BIRTH OF A RUSSIAN PRINCE.—GREAT REJOICING. The Czarina was on Friday delivered of a son. The event took place at the Palace of Peterhof. The infant Czarevitch has been given the name of Alexis. St. Petersburg is decorated with flags, and the streets, crowded with people, quickly pre- sented a very animated appearance. The good news of the birth of a Czarevitch is everywhere evoking demonstrations of joy. On Friday evening the city was illuminated. The foreign Ambassadors and Ministers called at the Foreign Office on Friday afternoon to offer their congratulations on the birth of a Czarevitch. The principal officials went to Peterhof on the receipt of the news, which was announced by the firing of guns. Hundreds of telegrams of congratulation have reached Peter- hof. The Czarinl1. and the newly born Czarevitch were both on Saturday morning reported to be doing well. It is the penalty of royalty (says a correspon- dent) that the light of publicity invades the most- sacred corners of the domestic hearth. Every- one in St. Petersburg knows what happened in the Peterhof when the first wail of the Imperial baby was heard. It was almost exactly 12.30 in the afternoon. Dr. Ott, the attendant on whom develved the task of ushering into the world this all-important atom of humanity, an- nounced to the waiting Czar that his great hope had at last been fulfilled. He announced it with the pardonable exultation of a man who would receive a little fee of £ 25,000. The Czar is a melancholy man. The cruel weight of autocracy, the heritage of sadness lie shares with all the Romanoff dynasty, the addi- tional bundle of his late troubles, have im- pressed his face with an expression of pathetic sadness. But he was perfectly radiant, and there were almost tears of joy in his voice as he s, i d "I can now look forward with confidence to the future. The birth of my heir, Alexis, re- joices me more than any victory of my troops." Then he went into the Czarina's bedroom, where the Empress lay, not in the old four- poster, "the blue velvet bed of Empress Eliza- beth," in which all other Czarevitches have been born, but on the light iron bedstead of English make. Walking gently to her side, the Czar kissed his wife, and with his own hands gave her a glass of iced water. Then he went into the adjoining room, where the little Alexis lay in a beautiful silken nest, draped with blue silk hangings, with the mono- gram A.R., and marked with the Imperial crown. His Imperial Highness was already dressed in cream-coloured baby clothes of ex- quisite texture, as bonny a boy as Emperor or peasant might wish to look upon. The Czar gazed at him long and fondly, and then nimself went out to announce the birth to the Court, Ministers, and members of the royal household. And champagne was drunk and joy expressed with as much fervour, if with less noise, than in unofficial Russia. There was a religious service in the chapel of the Peterhof, at which the Czar and the whole Court were present. A fortnight from now the baptism will take place with great pomp. The Imperial infant will ride in a gilt coach studded with jewels, and painted by hands long dead—those of Wat- teau and Boucher. The Czarevitch will have four godfathers and four godmothers, and the King of Denmark will probably have three crowned heads with him at the font. INFANT COLONBT. I The Czar's baby boy is still doing well. A telegram from St. Petersburg says little Prince Alexis's condition is entirely satisfactory, and his august mother is also doing well. A solemn Te Deum, attended by the Diplo- matic Body, was sung in the Kasan Cathedral on Saturday, in thanksgiving for the event. An Order of the Day has been issued, in which th& Csar appoints his newly-born heir to the command of the 5 £ st Finnish Life Guard Regiment, and of the 12th East Siberian Rifle Regiment, which are henceforth to bear the Czarewitch's name. His Imperial Highness is also placed a la suite of all the regiments of the Guard of wnich the Czar is commander. In the same Order of the Day the Czarina i3 appointed to the command of the 15th (Alexan- dra) Regiment of Dragoons. -I- SAINT'S MIRACULOUS HELP. I The people of St. Petersburg are discussing a mysterious incident, said to have occurred about a year ago. The Empress had a dream, in which she saw one of the saints of the Rus- sian Church. The saint, sympathising with her desire for an heir, told her that, if she opened his tomb and removed the relics from it, her wish would be gratified. The Empress related the dream to the Czar, but was unable to tell him the name of the saint. The Czar, much impressed, had col- lected together pictures of all the Russian saints, among whom the Empress identified St. Sera- phim as the one who had appeared in her dream. The Emperor and Empress then paid a per- sonal visit to St. Seraphim's shrine in the forest at Volga, and had the tomb opened. The body was in a state of perfect preservation, and the relics, which were found as described in the dream, were given to the Czarina. The news of their Majesties' mission became known, and the shrine of St. Seraphim is likely to become a Russian Lourdes or Mecca.
riN SPIRITLAIMI
r iN SPIRITLAIM I Spiritualism is gradually yet surely taking a deep hold, and we shall before long have to ask, "Is there something that we wot not of that will end the misplaced mocking and point the truth, yea or nay?" Each day we hear from reliable sources more details of interviews with friends and relations who have passed to the land where "the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest." This morning I received a letter from a lady who but a few months back lost all that made life worth living-.—"My Dear H., --I was so pleased to hear from you and learn all is well. It was perhaps hardly necessary, as I was speaking to my mother the other evening, and she told me of you, saying you would write soon. You may wonder at this, knowing of my mother's death two years ago, till I explain that at last I am converted to the true belief, and it- has eased ihe terrible longing I had to join my beloved. He hasn't spoken yet, but I see him and know he is happy, and that suffices till death unites us." Who knows it may be the beginning of the end, when all shall be shown? Then shall we strive lest we lose all sweet beavenly joys.
[No title]
During the rioting which followed an attempt to distribute the meat from the stockyards at Chicago, the police fired on the mob and used their clubs freely. The War Office recently granted a nono- geDarian Crimean veteran at Burnley a pension of ninepence a, day. Straightway, says "Truth," the guardians cut dbwn his relief by a shilling week.
WOMAN'S WORLD.
WOMAN'S WORLD. GREY HAIR. As we become more sensible, we realise that gre) hair does not always mean agj, for often a woman of GO will net be as grey as her sister of 40. For this reason, as well as from hygienic motives, the wonan who dyes her hair is foolish. It deceives few people, nd makes the hair worse in the end by causing it to assume Z, a streaky appearance, and in some instances killing it. SHOULD WOMEN MARRY YOUNG? w v Whether it is better that women should mary early or rot is a matter of opinion, writes Lady Jeune, in "London Opinion." To a woman of a clinging, gentle nature, an eariy marriage is everything. She has her mind, her opinions,, shaped for her, and on that she moulds her life. She takes the line on which her future is to be made in an unquestioning spirit, and the duties ot her life, the lives of her children. all come natu- rally and easily to her as part of a future which has been prepared for her by someone else, and about whose fashioning she has had no opinion of her own. Women are very adap- tive, and fall into a position with surprising readi- ness and to many of them the idea or possibility of another mode of life never occurs. They pursue the even tenour of their way perfectly happily, and please everyone they come into contact witiu To such a nature as this life is ideal, and there is no disturbing suspicion of a wider lif, with absorb- ing problems and larger interests in which other women find work and interests outside the domain of home. Possibly when the sun of life burns less warmly, and the shades of the evening fall, such a woman has had the best that is to be got out of life, free from the restless and unsatisfied- desires which torment other women less calm and less philosophical. TRAVEL DRESS. Slowly but surely we are learning; the lesson that it is as necessary to look our best abroad as at home, and we have certainly everything to help us, for fashion is unusually kind in providing useful and becoming gear. The i newest models are the acme of simplicity and neat- ness: with very little trouble at a moderate outlay the, lady tourist. can look what our French friends would call" parfaitement bien mise." To this end she will observe several regulations. To begin with, she will eschew cotton blouses and cotton, skirts likewise for boat or train wear, for nothing adds so much to untidy "ensemble as a soiled or crumpled cotton gown. On the other hand, heavy fabrics "Should be carefully avoided, since they materially enhance fatigue, and. except for the moors and mountains, tweeds are too hot. The nicest material is undoubtedly alp&ca or mohair, made with a plain coat and skirt that does not sweep the ground. Some of the tailor models are now made with quite long coats of semi-sac form, It goes without saying that with such coats the | neatest of stock collars should be tabooed alto- gether for travel wear. i° COMFOKTABLE CLOTHES. There is nothing so comfortable for travelling or for country walking as a well-cut skirt whicti clears the ground all the way round. Many of the smartest hats one sees are of broderie Anglaise; there is, in fact, quite a rtgo for this form of dainty elaboration, both for gowis and headgear. To give white lace the fashionable Paris shade which is so much worn now, get a j piece of clean coarse packing sheet or sacking. Pufe- j it into the copper with a handful of soda, cover j with water, and let it boil well. Then the water to keep back any impurities. Put it in an earthenware basin, and let the lace soak in it all night. In the morning rinse in cold water, and it will be found almost as pretty as the real dye. Longer or shorter soaking will vary the shade as one may desire. Lace with a thick edge naturally takes longer to absorb the dye than a fine lace., Travelling coats with capes are double-breasted, with stole-like fronts. The capes round off froro. j the fronts, and dip into a point on either side of j the centre back. Striped flannel dresses are in great force for yachting and s, iling trips. Suede belts are worn with them. All sorts of lawn and | linen collars are seen upon the sea. Silk is only used for neckties or for little quilted edgings to the blouse collar. Rose colourcasts a very dainty and becoming glow upon the complexion, so every wise woman, especially if her skin be a sallow tint, seizes the sunshade that bestows upon it the pink glow of beauty. Black and blue alpacas are the chosen fabrics for this year's bathing cos- tumes. Alpaca is certainly one of the best fabrics for these gowns, it does not hold the water, and neither does it cling to the figure. » RATIONAL DRESS. It is of interest to recall, in view of the postponement of the mar- riage of that octogenarian dress reformer, Susan Fowler, who be- j came famous as one of the few women in America | who took to wearing trousers in public, that long before the days of rational dress trousers were j worn by the pit-brow lasses of Lancashire. They have always in fact constituted the rational dress I' of industry in the working life of the pit-brow girl. These girls, after a hard day's work afc the pit mouth on the surface, from six in the morning to half past five or six in the evening, make a picture never to be forgotten by a stranger. They come in groups, wearing trousers i with an overskirt tucked up at the front and | dangling like a eoat-tail behind. A basket and a. I can swing on the arm in motion with the gait, Their clogs clatter on the pavement. Their faces are black as a negro woman's, black with the soot and the coaldust that has come from the pit's mouth, and as they talk and laugh their white teeth show up against this dark background like a string of pearls. On their heads are colon red 'kerchiefs, or lapelled bonnets, to keep the grit of the coal out of the hair. It is a little hard (savs the Manchester Guardian ") to be certain whether the contemplation of their attire would add to or I detract from the zeal of the reformer." OTHEIS PEOPLE'S FINE FKOCKS. Custom forbids the elite to wear gorgeous gowns more than ones or twice. These are too good to. give away, so it i& customary to sell or exchange some of the- most alluring designsinfenumrje attire. Thus the i woman of small means, who yet has to appear well dressed, can buy a really smart garment at considerably less than its originals cost, and two well stocked London rooms I were visited by a Sun representative the other j day who found nothing suggesting a secondhand clothes establishment, but an abundance of dresses, silk-hned evening gowns, and creations, all respten-. I dent in their latent power, and each, in addition to having been worn by distinguished people, possess- ing a history. One quite new Pariti model had not been worn at all, because the husband of a lady of title did not like it. Iland-paint.ed muslins, mother of pearl, and sequins are veritable bargains.. An evening gown of blue crepe de chine and i jew tiled lace, costing £ 2o, v»Tas posed for sale at j five guineas. Actresses patronise this establish- j ment. too, for often they have to provide their own stage dresses, and here is the means to 11 dres", the j part" well at an absurdly low price. A chiffon dress only worn twice at Ascot found its way to the place described, and subscribers to the exchange get a £75 gown for £ 21, a 35 guinea frock for £ 10, and 30, 40. or 50 guinea gowns, from £5 to £10. A whoie wedding trousseau, even down I to gloves, is offered for sale by a briae whoso j wedding was postponed at the last moment. ) LACE T FANS I ft Costly lace fans like those ia vogtie, among the court dames of the time of Nnpoleou 1. a.re the rase again. The idea of painting I a portrait on silk and appfiqueing it on a lace fan is not to be despised but a picture wonderfully i executed in the lace itself is the luxurious Paris- ienne's newest object of art, A young mother often has her portrait, with that of her baby, j woven into the meshes of her lace fan. and a I charming conceit it is, to be sure—a fad which the wealthy and artistic lover of lace Wtll find pleasure 1 in imitating.
I MALMORA: ;ft STOEY OF THE…
I MALMORA: ;ft STOEY OF THE ISLE OF MAN. U BY AUGUSTA SQUIRES, Author of "Saved by Death," "An Eviction and its Consequencesdie. dec. CHAPTER XXIII. A STORM OFF BRADA HEAD. ELFIN stole from BaHa unperceived late in the evening of the following day, and made her way to a desolate spot surrounded by rugged rocks, and sat down on a green hillock where the bineweed spread a carpet for her feet. She rested her cheek upon her hand; an expression of deep sadness mingled with haunting fear stamped itself upon her face. She saw, in imagination, that cruel hag-like jirisage which had suddenly appeared from amidst the foliage, as she sat on the mossy Stone in Glen Helen, pouring forth her apturous lay of love. It was the face that had loomed over her when a child with fiendish glee, as the stinging lash fell upon her bare shoulders, and she struggled vainly io break the bonds which held her to a post tof torture. When at last she escaped from ia life of semi-starvation, a life which was crushing out all that was human within eher, her foot touched the sea-girt strand of la new world, and she woke up slowly to an existence of peace and comfort. Now all ithe misery of that past came back to her, Closing in with its dark wings the brightness and glory of the later time, and she stood IRgain face to face with the terror of her Childhood. The statement Sir Magnus had made to Orry in the glen relating to the identity of [the crone who had startled him while fishing, had revealed to her, in a momentary jfiash of comprehension, that her grand- mother and Molly Malone were one and the bine. Would not Mrs. MacLear cast her adrift, gvhen she learned that the child whom, she pad sheltered under her roof, was a near descendant of the one whom she believed to have compassed the death of her little (daughter I^rida? .And. Orry, lie would B-wav and forget her. ° 1 "Miss Elfin," said a quavering voice. She uttered a low cry of fear. The Lord bless ye, lil one, ye ben't afraid ID* old Joalf, as values every 'air 'o' yer 'ead Its if it wor a golden guinea ? j You startled me," she said, wearily. Joalf was a strange figure. His long iron- grey hair fell over the collar of his home-spun fcoat; his tight sleeves were out at elbow: this curranes were held together by a leather istrap passed under the instep, and large (holes appeared in the heels of his undyed tetockings. He threw himself on the ground at her ffeet, with the air of a privileged person. From the night when he had found Elfin iying on the straw in the stable, with the loodhound keeping watch over her slum- ei-s, he had been her willing slave. She ad tyrannised over him in her childhood, ad aroused his quiet sense of humour, with er wild savage tricks, and caused the withering heart within him to beat with a svarmer throb of life. He had regarded her gradual mental development with a strange jdazed wonder he discerned dimly that she was a creature with instincts and abilities ,which transcended his comprehension, and She held her in the same reverence in which She held the stars, that he gazed at in the might-time, believing them to be the abode iof immortal spirits. "Och I och! an' what ails ye, lil one? Has he 'urt the 'art on ye ? "No! no! But he will never love me snore, never more," she moaned. Joalf looked down at his cow-hide sandals, otnd rubbed his heels backwards and forwards Sin the sandy earth. He was afflicted with a (vague uneasiness; something troubled the 111 one." At length he got up and went away, but soon returned with a large white water lily jivhich he laid upon her knee. In this dumb fashion he expressed his sympathy. Elfin (understood. She thanked him with a faint eixiile, and the silvery mist of tears dimmed fher eyes. She drew the long stalk of the jetately blossom through her belt. He regarded the act with a chuckle of satisfaction. She arose and shook the sand grains from gher dress, and walked across the low hills to ia piece of meadow land, where the pale jacaarguerites with their hearts of gold were .waving their graceful heads above semi- ftransparent stems of the delicate quaker- jgrass, with its pendent drops of dim purple ovei'spread with silver bloom. did not attempt to follow; some uhtlü instinct told him that she wished to The alone. The slim form, with its waving white drapery, seemed to float upon a sea of vat-i-coloui-ed blossoms, and at length dis- appeared between the high rocks of a lonely mountain pass. Then he sat down to await fber return, with the patience of a faithful jWatch-dog, who listens for the first far off secho of his master's footstep on the home ,conducting road. Elfin was a child of Nature she could not tendure, for long, the cramping influence of pa human habitation. In her creative moods he sought the open air, and even now, in he confusion of mind which assailed her, jfche wild up-lands and desolate glens drew [her like a magnet. She threaded her way along the rocky defile, unconscious that the sun was setting, and the storm clouds were casting shadows, idark as night, in the slumbrous recesses of (the mountains. She walked on for many (miles, and at length reached a bold promon- jtory near to Brada Head, and heard the great waves booming on the cavernous ishore beneath. She descended a, perilous path in the gathering gloom, and gained a narrow ledge of rock which stretched between the foot of ithe clii-T and the flowing tide. She had no purpose in her wanderings; .the restless spirit within urged her on. The red light of storm glowed angrily in a curved and broken line where sea and sky tInct in tossing wave and lowering cloud [long swathes of billowy blackness shut out ■•the stars. The majestic cliffs towered over- head and throw their dark shadows on to the foam crested breakers. Heavy drops fell upon Elfin's upturned face. She gained a sea cave as the storm burst with a trumpet note of fury. She sat and watched the contest between the elements. The winds raged and shrieked; the -billows mingled their mighty roar with peal aft er peal of echoing thunder the lightning (Stahbnd the dark, and lit it with sulphur flame. The scene had no terrors for the enthralled spectator. Her eyes shone like stars in the darkness, and her pale face was luminous she thrilled and glowed with exultation her ,spirit leaped out to meet the spirit of tha iStortm There was something in it on iun.chained fury, of majestic strength, OH ^mystic power; and through it all, to he? excited imagination, ran the voice of music. The space between sea and sky was as a great- harp with myriad strings, upon which the wild winds played. We get from Nature only that which we give to her. Presently the wmd subsided and the rain ceased.. The wanderer quitted the shelter of the envo. She heard her name borne upon the breeze. "Elfin i Elfin!" Her pulses thrilled with a great joy. He was seeking her. She called back: "I come! I come!" Entering the narrow defile, she began to ascend the steep rugged track which led to the brow of the cliff. Och, an' I said, lave it to me t' find 'er! cried Joalf, as he caught sight of a white figure rising through the shadows, as through a purple mist. She was clasped in Orry's arms, and felt the quick beating, of his heart against her own. "My darling, why did you stray so far away from home, and expose yourself to all kinds of dangers? See, I have brought your cloak. There, now you will be better pro- tected." he continued, folding the long garment around her. "Malmora sent the servants in all direction to seek you." "Did she miss me ? As soon as she perceived the storm coming on and knew that you were out, she urged me to seek you at once. Then she commanded me to stay but I very quietly "I come! I come!" Entering the narrow defile, she began to ascend the steep rugged track which led to the brow of the cliff. Och, an' I said, lave it to me t' find 'er! cried Joalf, as he caught sight of a white figure rising through the shadows, as through a purple mist. She was clasped in Orry's arms, and felt the quick beating of his heart against her own. "My darling, why did you stray so far away from home, and expose yourself to all kinds of dangers? See, I have brought your cloak. There, now you will be better pro- tected." he continued, folding the long garment around her. "Malmora sent the servants in all direction to seek you." "Did she miss me ? As soon as she perceived the storm coming on and knew that you were out, she urged me to seek you at once. Then she commanded me to stay but I very quietly told her I had a right to watch over your safety." "Take me away from her; from the island, to the beautiful lands you told me of. Take me now, do not let us go back to Balla," she pleaded. Her arms wound about his neck. v He put back the hair, damp with the salt spray, from the wan cheek that nestled against hs breast. "In a short time you will be my own, then Ave will go to England." "Let us go now," she cried, clinging yet closer to him. Do you fear to meet her ? Has she been unkind to you ? She will be—when she knows." She will not dare he cried, with a flash of anger. "To-night, immediately upon our return, I will inform her of our be- trothal." "Not to-night, oh, promise me, not to- night." "I cannot give you such a promise," he said, decisively. "There is no occasion for I secrecy." "But there is—I mean-" "You are excited and overwrought, dearest. Come, let us be going." "Not until you have given me you word of honour that you will not disclose any- thing at present." "But, dearest, don't you see that I cannot appear as your protector until the fact of our engagement is made public? It is necessary that I should tell Malmora before I go away. You know that uncle and I join Lord Gopsall on board his yacht early to- morrow morning. We hope to be back by the end of the week, but if the weather prove unfavourable we may not be able to return until Monday." That is the very reason she must not know. I dare not face her anger alone." "She has no claim upon you, dearest. You are mistress of your own actions. You have no relations to disapprove of your choice." She loosened her clasp of his neck. No relations! There came a vision of that dreaded figure, with hands stretched out to separate, rising up between him and her, even as they stood at the marriage altar. Joalf, who had been standing apart, meditatively chewing the end of a straw, now came forward and said, abruptly It Ye'd better lave yer courtin' till ye git i'doors. Love ain't 'ot enough t' keep the cold o' a bleak cliff-side oot o' yer bones." Then he lowered his voice Hark t' the Night-man Ye can 'ear 'im a-eallin', Hoolaa 1 Hoolaa "How thoughtless of me to detain you on this exposed spot! cried Orry. Surely we shall be able to procure a conveyance at no great distance from here ? I am not in the least fatigued. I would sooner walk. I shall have you all the longer to myself." Elfin felt that she could not tell him of the dread which oppressed her-could not, with her own hand, put away the happiness which would be all too brief. She had a sense of utter helplessness to contend against oppos- ing forces. A pale gleam of moonlight fell across their path, and the stars shone dimly between the rifts of driving cloud. They went on over the wind-swept head- lands, and through the sinuous glens, and still the faithful Joalf followed where they led. Elfin gave herself up to the delicious witchery of the passing hour. It was so sweet to be enfolded in her lover's tender- ness, to be upheld by his superior strength. They were two beings cut off from the universe, ensphered by the night. Their I souls rushed together in the darkness and became one. CHAPTER XXIV. I "I'M YEIt OWN FAYTHEIT." I THE sunlight stole with a mellow glow through the closed muslin curtains which draped the window of Elfin's chamber. The young girl woke early, and lay dreamily looking around the spacious room, with its'rich carpet, costly furniture, choice pictures, and chastely-wrought toilet service of frosted silver lined with gold. Malmora's chief care had been to surround her protégée with elegant luxuries. 8h<- knew that the beautiful in Nature and in Art had an educating and refining influence upon mind and character. Elfin rose and attired herself in a pink robe de chambre. She passed to the other end of the room, and standing before a long mirror, contern- plated, with a kind of curious interest, the figure reflected therein. The raven hair fell in waving masses far below her waist. She swept it from her forehead with one white hand. The calm of slumber still lingered on her face. A pathetic expression dimmed the eyes from which a dumb pleading looked forth, as though conscious that there could be no response to its mute appeal. She coiled herself up in a cushioned chair, and throwing back one arm, rested her cheek on its delicate curve. Her eyes lingered lovingly upon every familiar object; each had its history, and was endeared to her by association. With the return of day had come back the old haunting question-" For how long now could she look upon Balla as her home?" When they knew, would they strip her of all which by long possession she had begun to regard as hers by right, and send her forth penniless in: a the world? The beat of horses' hoofs on the gravel path in the garden beneath, caused her to spring to her feet with a cry. She drew aside the curtain, threw up the lower sash, and stood framed by the open window, which was twined with honey- suckle, and roses in clusters of crimson j blooms. Two horsemen were just disappearing beneath the overarching trees of the avenue. A hand was waved as in adieu. Elfin sank upon her knees, and covered her face with her hands. | "He is gone—my beloved! I shall never see him again Presently Emilie entered, and assisted her voung mistress with her toilet. Elfin had never dressed her own hair, or I even arranged the ribbon at her waist, since she had been an inmate of Balla. Her handkerchief, gloves and other trifles were always laid out ready to her hand. At" length the gong sounded. She descended to the breakfast-room. Mrs. MacLear was already in her place at | the head of the table. Elfin imagined that her greeting was signally cold. There was no solicitous questioning as to the state of her health after the fatigue occasioned by the long walk and exposure to the storm on the previor night. Elfin acquired but little knowledge by ordinary observation; but her delicate sus- ceptibility was a sensitive plate upon which the varying moods, and even the unspoken thoughts of others, were frequently pro- jected. She perceived at once that the attitude of her patroness's mind had changed towards her, and that Linda had exerted an influence which was calculated to do her harm. How will you be able to exist without your cavalier, Elfin ? said Linda, laughingly as she helped herself to a morcaeu ddlicat. Mrs. MacLear silently decided that there was a want of good taste displayed by her guest in giving expression to a remark con- veying so pointed a meaning in the presence of a third person. She observed Elfin lift her head with a quick gesture as though resenting the unwarranted pleasantry. She could not refrain from drawing a comparison between the two girls. Elfin, whom she had every reason to believe was of lowly origin, had the manner and appearance which invari- ably denotes one of gentle birth while Linda, who could trace her descent back for many generations, manifested that superficial refinement which is the result of education and association, and is quite dis- tinct from that intuitive graciousness, which springs from a nature at once nobly simple and sympathetically intelligent. When the repast was over Elfin rose from her seat. Do you wish to hear the songs I was practising yesterday, Mrs. MacLear. Mahnora was suddenly struck by the look of suffering on the girl's white face. Are you feeling fatigued ? I am afraid I could not do myself justice this morning." Very well, I will hear them another time." I Elfin walked silently from the room. As Malmora watched the young girl's departure, she experienced a sudden pre- monition of impending misfortune. She desired to bid her return; to utter some tender word; but it seemed as though a strong hand were laid across her lips pressing back speech. The moment passed, which differently used, might have changed the destinies of those two lives. It was evening. Elfin was walking along a winding path near the boundary line of the Balla estates, unconscious that Linda, seated in a rocky recess, was stealthily watching her movements. Elfin turned to detach a clinging thorn from the hem of her dress, when she was startled to find a man walking close behind her, as though dogging her steps. He was above the average height; his frame, of large proportions, was somewhat emaciated. A certain undefined air, not altogether pleasing, and a slight stoop of the broad shoulders, seemed to indicate that the man had never held himself erect, either morally or physically. The hair, cut close to the head, was partially concealed by a red knitted cap; the dark eyes looked out dully from beneath shaggy brows. A capacious blue jersey exposed the long thin neck. Although the dress was that of a fisherman, the face, which in its youth I might have exhibited some features of manly beauty, wore the deathlike pallor of a recluse. "Possibly you may not be aware that these are private grounds?" said Elfin, in a tone of hauteur, for she was annoyed at the bold impertinent stare with which the man regarded her. Aw deed, 'an didn't I know that afore ye war born ? An' I hev no right to be here, is that what ye re a-thinking' ? Sorra a bit av right hev I, nather hev ye." The man stepped forward and planted himself in her path. Elfin felt that she had not power to move. The intruder thrust his hands into his trousers pockets, threw back his head, and let his eyes travel over the young girl's face and figure with a look of admiring satisfac- tion. Och> but yer a terrible handsome cray- thure, me lady, every inch ave ye an' is it the laming that's done it? Och, an'eddica- tion to the human craythure, sure an' it is like a brighten in' brush to a blacked boot, it gies polish. Sure an' proud of ye it is as ony parent might be." The girl's wide open eyes had the look of a hunted animal. The man pushed his knitted cap to the back of his head, and went on: Sure, an' ye be yer fayther's own child. It is the Malones ye be favourin'; black hair an' black brows. Yer muther were fair as a lily, an' that purty, on the island there wasna the loike av her. Ye're a young cuckoo reared in a nest as belongs by rights to another burd." Who are you ? asked Elfin, at length, in a dry, hard whisper. I in yer own fayther!" For a moment she was struck with blind- ness the earth swayed beneath her feet. She steadied herself and leaned heavily on the stout handle of her parasol. "But I have no father," she stammered, faintly. "Och! an' is it in the dark her's ben a- lavin' ye ? Faith, an ain't I the only son av Molly Malone ? Ould muther Jones war the name av her i' Liverpool. A bit strip av a child ye were whin ye laved her-so she telled me. Sure an' it is i' prison as I ha' ben this mony a year. I lay av nights a picturin' av ye, an' a, plannin' as 'ow I'd pit ye oot t' sarvice, an' sure it war meself as ud draw yer wages. But into me head it didna enter, that for yerself ye war plannin', an' that cunnin', as t' creep i'to the richest house av the island, an' t' keep as silent a tongue behind yer teeth as fishermen whin they goo cathin' herrin's. By me faith, ye're a chip av the ould block." Each time the man made an indirect reference to the relationship which he had. asserted existed between him and herself, Elfin experienced a feeling of repulsion she drew back a step with an involuntary shrinking. Me own flesh an' blood is it that ye he ? an' sorry a bit av harm would I do ye. Av yer puir ould fayther ye jist tek care, an' I'll never kem forrard t' claim ye." I--I-do not understand! faltered Elfin. Plain is it t' see as Corrin's Tower on the top av Peel Hill. Me pockets is empty; sure an' who should fill 'em but me rich daughter ? Faith an' the sacret I'll kape. Who ye ba nobody knows, so the ould girl telt me. No luv has she for ye, which is mortal strange. The light av her eyes ye were, whin ye were a bit toddlin' babby. Mighty savage an' wasn't she ye're runnin' away, an' bein' tuk up by a big leddy? To Mrs. Ma,cLear she would ba gooin', and tell the whole story but me it war that says, Only fules it is as chokes the fountain fra whare the watter flows. Elfin uttered a low cry. "Mrs. MacLear would—turn—me—out!" Each word sounded like a gasping sob. Thrue. So yer grannie I telled. Other fish t' fry hev 1. Revenge is it ye'd ba seekin' ? It's the tin as I ba wantin'. Sure an' me daughter's future shall it ba spiled ? Sorra a bit. Me leddy is she by me troth, she'll ha't' mek me a gintleman. Faith, an' don't I know on which side av the wall the pears grow ? Elfin drew her handkerchief across her moist forehead, then rolled it into a ball and clenched it tightly in her left hand. Sure an' Mrs. MacLear gie's ye heaps of brass?" I I Brass? The man laughed harshly. "Ye knowed the manin' av the word years agone, whin i' the streets ye wint beggin'; but me leddy ye ba noo, and mabbe ye calls it gould an' siller—coppers the loikes av ye 'ud ha' nought t' do wid. I' faitH, a man as ain't'ed a smell av beer, nor aven spin-its, for nigh on half his life, is got t' mek up lor lost time. A d-)o l,ij'ti I(! q tigli ter sure an' ye'll ba t' yer puir ill-used father ?" The man held out his hand. What do you want ? she asked, «s Money." She drew a purse from her pocket, and threw it at his feet. Then she turned and fled. Chevy picked up the little silken bag and inspected its contents. He examined the few coins which lay in his palm with a look of dissatisfaction. 11 I'll. com' agen to-morrow," he muttered. He retraced his steps, and disappeared at a turning in the path. From her coin of vantage, Linda had heard every word which had passed between the two in the shady walk beneath. A few minutes later, she was pouring the whole story into Mrs. MacLear's startled ears. (To be continuedrJ
I HOME HINTS. I
HOME HINTS. Every dinner-table should be decorated, A pot of growing ferns is always a thing of beautj. When polishing mirrors, windows, or pic- tare glass with whiting, the best way to aie it is to have it in muslin bags. Dampen the glass lightly, then rub with the bag, and polish off yirith crumpled newspapers. To Prevent a Lamp Smoking.—A smoky lamp is often the result of a clogged and dirty wick. Take the burner out of lamp and soak it in a little strong washing soda and hot water, then dry thoroughly, and the lamp will burn much better. Have your kitchen table covered with tin. There will be more time for recreation and less for scrubbing after that. There is a certain joy about being able to lift a hot pot and plump it down on your tin-covered table. That little nervous flutter, born in fear of scorching or burning the table, is gone. And do you realise it is just such little thrills of annoyance that age us, the constant dropping that wears away the stone? Creaking doors, windows that stick, misfitting pot-lids—do away with them. Wicker tables and chairs are easily cleaned by being scrubbed with salt and water, and then put in the air to dry. Mud stains on black skirts may be washed out with a little ammonia and water. Do not attempt to remove them with soap suds, for you will only fix them more firmly. A mixture that will remove grease from the finest fabrics without injuring them is made with one quart of rain water, two ounces of ammonia, one teaspoonful of saltpetre, and one ounce of shaving soap cut up fine. It should be- kept constantly on hand. Making up Thin Materials.—When making up muslin or any thin material, it is a good plan to stitch down each ream a piece of narrow tape of the same colour. This keeps them quite firm, and also prevents them from stretching when washed, and does away with the uneven appearance which is often the result. When making jam, have the paper for cover- ing quite ready before you fill the jars, and as you fill each one dip a piece of paper in cold milk, and cover with this while the jam is still very hot. Jam covered in this way will not get mouldy, even if kept for two or three years, and no brandy-paper or anything of the kind is needed. A pretty frosting for a window with an un- pleasant outlook may be made with two ounces of Epsom salts in a quart of warm water. The mixture should be applied with a sponge, which should be "dabbed" against the window. As the water dries, a charming frost-like pattern will be seen on the glass. The latter should be well cleaned beforehand. Blackberry Cordial.—Put the berries in a stone jar, set in a pan of boiling water. Sim- mer until soft, then strain. Measure the juice, and to each quart allow a half-pound of loaf sugar, a teaspoonful each of ground cloves and allspice, half a grated nutmeg, and a teaspoon- ful of ground cinnamon. Boil the juice, add the sugar and spices, and simmer slowly half an hour. Remove from the fire, and when cold add half a pint of cognac; then bottle. Dishcloths iruet.be washed after using if they are to be kept sweet and nice. First wash in a lather of soap and water, then rinse in clean hot water and hang out to dry. One of the nicest kinds of dishcloths is made of knitted soft cotton, which will wash again and again and look as good as new. Another excellent dishcloth is made of a neatly hemmed square of the coarse crash used for roller towels; its great merit lies in the ease with which it can Da kept clean. For Burns and Scalds.-Always keep car- bonate of soda in the house-it is useful for many purposes. For burns and scalds it is an excellent remedy; the surface of the burn should be covered with it, either dry or just damped. It relieves the pain caused bv the bites or stings of insects. A small saltspoonful in half a tumbler of water will relieve heartburn and indigestion, and if taken with tepid water last thing at night will frequently induce sleep in restless persons. Rice Fritters.—Boil some rice till perfectly cooked in water, then drain and put it into a clean saucepan cover with new milk, sweeten to taste, add half an ounce of dissolved butter to each half a pint of milk used, and beat in enough flour to make the mixture stiff enough to drop from a spoon. Have a saucepan of boiling lard ready, and into it drop" the rice batter, a spoonful at a time. Fry till a golden brown, and then drain before the fire. gift caster sugar over, and serve with a good wine sauce. ° A most savoury supper dish is liver, baked with onions and potatoes. Cut one pound of ealfs liver (be sure it is fresh) into tHn slices. Wash it and dry it in a clean clo Put a layer at the bottom of a pie dish; sprinkle it with pepper and salt, a few breadcrumbs, some tmely-minced parsley and onion, some slices of potatoes, partially boiled, and a couple of rashers of bacon, and continue the layers till all the liver is put in. Let the last layer be one of potatoes. Pour in a little good gravy and bake the pie for about three-quarters of an hour, and serva quite hot. Lemon Cream.-To a pint of cream add the yolk of two eggs well beaten, 4oz. of caster sugar and the rind of a lemon pared thinly with- out touching the white inner skin boil it up, then stir till nearly cold. Put the juice of a lemon m a dish and pour the cream upon it, Stir- ling it till quite cold. Lemon Cream Without Cream.—Pare thinly four IepiGiTs into twelve large spoonfuls of water squeezing the juice of them on to 6oz. of caster sugar; take the yolks of nine eggs and beat thoroughly, then add the rinds and juice and Peat together for a few minutes; strain through ci flannel into a very clean bloc* tin saucepan set pver a gentle fire, and stir the contents one way until fairly tmck and scalding hot; they must not be permitted to boil, or they will curdle. Pour into a dish or jelly glasses. Orango Cream.-Phre the rind of a Seville grange, boil it until tender, and then pound it pne in.a mortar; add to it 4oz. of caster sugar, the yolks of four eggs, the juice of a Seville | jraoge, and a spoonful of gooct brandy, all beaten Weil togetnor for ten minutes; pour to this gently, by degrees, a pint of boiling water. Beat till nearly cold, and pour into c'nstard cups set b a deep dish of boiling water, and let them iand until cold. Clouted Cream to Eat with Fruits.—Take a quart of new milk, in which, if the flavour is liked, three or four blades of mace have been ftimmered for a few minutes, and strain it into the yolks of two new laid eggs well beaten. Stir the whole into a quart of cream, set over the fire, and stir it till hot but not boiling hot. Pour it into a deep dish, and let it stand twenty-four lours. Stewed Fruits.—Pare and halve the pears with fc silver fruit knife if very large they may be Quartered. Pack them round a perfectly clean Enamelled saucepan, or put into a small pre- serving kettle, sprinkle over them enough sugar to sweeten them in the proportion desired, add a little allspice, a clove or two, and a little lemon peel. Cover with water and stew gently for three or four hours. When tender, remove them, ] into a dish and pour the liquor over tlieiu. Apple Telli-Core and pare some nice dessert [ apples, allowing about twenty to a pint and a half I of water, in which boil them until tender. Strain the liquor through a colander, and put, to every pint |-lb. of sugar. Flavour with a little grated lemon, clove, or whatever is liked, then boil to ia ieily.
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I Three of the oldest clergymen in the Church ef England are Rev. K. B. Young, rector of T^brook, 96; Canon Nickoll, 95; aid the Rev% R. M. White, Shrewsbury, 94.