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CHAPTER XVL , M2SS15Q! "When Edna Deane glanoed into th< *oom at the Hopedale Hotel where th< marriage ceremony between the mai he loved and the woman who hat bo cruelly deceived her was taking place, one member only of the coterii there had caught sight of her white stricken face. Lured on by the deft manipulation o Dr. Simms and Beatrice Mercer, Kay^ mond Marshall had agreed to solac< the dying moments of the girl wno hac aved his father from financial ruin anc disgrace by wedding her. The bridegroom ol' a few brief hours destined to benefit by her fortun< whether he so elected or not, toe crushed over his grief to care what be came of him, he went through the forrr \ of a mere mockery of marriage, anc & fpoke the words that signalized the cuiK&' jnination of the scheming siren's defl Hgit 1 Plot' , It was just at the commencement o m: ' the ceremony that he chanced to glance at the huit'-open door connecting "with the adjoining apartment. , The others did not see, the others die ??f *ot mark, the vivid start, the quick pal' lor, the gasping breath, as he stared be' fore him as if he had seen a wraith. "Edna!" he panted; and then, feeling that it was a delusion of the senses, i reproachful, haunting visitation from the ^roman the memory of whose love coulc never sanctify even a marriage of necessity and pity, he tottered through the doorway into the next room. Edna!" > His voice rang out less vaguely now It was no wraith?no trick of the senses Bbe was at the threshold of that hal door now. Her face flashed plainly, un> jnistakably, across his vision. > "It Is she?alive!" he gasped. "Oh ?an It be true?" Madly he rushed for the corridor. Th< ?V~ *- ronnnnitlnn VlOW VUUC^i Ul tuu iwwjun.v-, ? ever, had blinded, confused him. Sh< had disappeared, and in his excitemen he ran the wrou.g way, got lost In inex trie able Bide passage- c? &<; ^rcrCt^rTrad reached its street exit two minutes be hind the flying fugitive. A lounger at the door told an excitable story of the fleeting form, and indicated the direction in which it had disappeared. . ? Not stopping to analyze his vivid motions nor the strange situation in * Which his acquiescence to the pleadings of Beatrice had placed him, Raymond Marshall thought only of the dead come back to life with a great, feverish joj and wonder. Yainly, however, he sooured the vicinity. Edna Deane had come like a phantom and had disappeared like a flash. Jaded, perplexed, an hour later Raymond Marshall started back for the hotel. HIb brow -was black with suspicion, his keenest sensibilities aroused to the fever-pitch of augury and suspense. Edna was alive?he was satisfied on that point. As he looked back over the events of the past hour, and realized how he had allowed his despair and sympathy to lead him into a net, he realized, too, that it might all be part oi a plot. The newspaper item was a falsehood! The siren had again deluded him, and now?he was chained to her. Be her illness simulation or reality, she was his legally wedded wife. The thought that Edna knew and understood all this drove him frantic. Hot with hate and excitement, he regained the room at the hotel. He would have ac understanding with Beatrice! She should, at least, tell him the truth about Edna, and the mystery of her absence and reappearance. He paused as he reached tho parloi of the suite. A glance into the nexl apartment rooted him to the spot. His father, the false nurse, the strange minister had departed, tut there yet linger* ^ Cimmo o n /I thora Trvrv rtr C7U X/Vw bVl k_J 1 Hi u.o, uuu buv* V) wvv| longer the incumbent, "white-faced dying bride, but in all her usual rega! boldness of beauty, sat Beatrice, conversing animatedly with her tool anc colleague in plotting, her cousin, tli( doctor. Marshall has probably gone home,' the latter was saying, "but I cannoi account for hi6 strange abrupt departure, We will not think of that, however Beatrice. Your scheme has succeeded you are his wife." "Yes," cried Beatrice, triumphantly, "my fondest hopes have succeeded." fcWe had better, therefore, hasten oui other arrangements at once. As I understand it, you are to be removed tc my home?" "Still posing as the dying Invalid, yes,* assented the crafty Beatrice. " P rtTFovar lift la T\ avmrm H \! n rchall mnr care for me, he will call daily to inquire for me. His sympathy will cause him to do that He will eee me gradually recover. When he finds he has married a well woman instead of a dying one he will accept the situation, and my love will win him to forget Edna, and he will never know the plot we have played (.gainst him." "He knows it now!" The two schemers started back it aismay. a lowering muuume~i> wi Wfuth, their victim suddenly sprang into view. in wild, fl*rce denunciation he thrusl the a^shed doctor aside. In righteous Indignation he told the appalled Beatrice that ehe was unmasked, the full mea^urfi of her iniquity known. He almost cursed her in the bitterness of his rage. He told her that if he fled to the uttermost parts of the world, her claim upon him as a husband should be the merest mockery of formality, and then unheeding her frantic appeals ol love, he dashed from the room, not even deigning to reveal to her that he had seen Edna Deane, that he knew her to be alive, realizing that any appeal to her to tell him truiy what she knew of the poor, persecuted child of destiny would not bring a truthful response from her false lips. That night, baflled. distracted, crushed, Beatrice sought vainly for the man sho loved?at his home, in the village. She could not forget him. So near to success, and careless babbling had lost her the precious prize. She lingered at the retirement of the ^Doctor's homo for several days; she ihad him inquire everywhere lor Marshall, but the latter had mysteriously disappeared from the village. "I shall return homo," sho told him With anxious, haggard face, tlnally. "At the first trace you secure of him Sprite or telegraph me. lou eot the ik, bv"<' ^y .v -? .i j I ? ) ^^.At^M/^XSXHftgr. marriage certificate from The "clereyman?" ; t Dr. Simms evaded her questioning ' glance. v . "Not yet," he Bta^mered, "but I will, i V/Ml Oftft fVft T'i 1 I ? rfcrt A! AmMMMAM mMn . O.V/U BCD, IUD HUO.&V U1C1 ? JIUU.L1 nao. c away, and I had to^arrange with a ptrange minister who lives in another t town. I will attend to it. Oh, you r will win Raymond Marshall to your side i yet." t "Life is torture else," sighed the dis- t appointed Beatrice. And that night she y started back for the home where luxury g and wealth were a hollo^ mockery, t 9 with her Bcheme for Raymond Mar- 1 j shall's love a failure. 1 i Had she remained one day longer at 1 Hopedale, she would have seen Ray- t $ mond Marshall, for he returned twenty- t i four hours after her departure. - - , ii ne was paie, "worn, jnuou uoiwo, he was a mere shadow of his former p f hnndsome self now. He had sought n vainly everywhere for a trace of Edna r > Deune. 1 Back at the starting-point of l?ls In- i 1 vestigation, ere he went to his horue, he t visited the h'otel. He questioned the , landlord about "Miss Leslie," nnd in- r ) quired particularly about a mysterious l > visitor on the day of the marriage. d "I remember now," spoke tht land- v l lord, after listening to Marshall's story. 1 "There was a strange woman here. She sat in the ladies' parlor, but she disapt peared mysteriously. However, we round a ntue sacnei tnere ino next f morning." i "Asachel!" ejaculated Marshall eag- 1 L erly, "o;m I see it?" i The article "was produced. Disap- i j pointedly Marshall glanced over the . lew collars ana nanclkercftlefs it con-: 1 . tained. They little resembled the 1 dainty neckwear of his Edna. As he ' f noted in red ink on the inside of the t I 6acliel an address, however, he decided i , that it might have b3longed to Edna, 1 1 that it might possibly be a clue. , . The address was that of a farmer, , John Blake. The next afternoon, Kay- 1 mond Marshall knocked at the door of +K a KnmKlo nrxf'i qc*a i/uu uuiuuiv vuarv u?u ouww?vu his lost darling tie night of the snow' storm. ; To her it ha<1 been a haven of safety and peace, to him it became the portals of a paradise of hope and love, as within ten minutes he knew all the truth. ' Yes, he* had located Edna at lastl Mrs. Blake had told him all she knew. He could patch out all the mystery of ' Edna s strange disappearance now. Oh! ? bo had found her at last. . _ . Found her, however, to lose her again, j 'it seemed. With a sinking heart he listened to the concerned matron as she told him that Edna had been missing for hours. | That day she had gone out for a drive. An bour previous the horse and phaeton had come home, Bruno jogging after, but no driver. Had Edna again fled?had she met with an accident? [ "Oh! it cannot be, so near to finding ner, 10 lose ner again: murinurou iuarj eball, wildly. "Have you no idea where she went, Mrs. Blake?" No, the farmer's wife could not conjecture, and, about to give Marshall an idea of Edna's usual route in driving, k he interrupted her. "Bruno, the dog!" he exclaimed sud' denly. "Come here, good fellow!" ? He tooK up a dainty glove from the table that belonged to Edna. He patted , the dog, he showed him the glove, ho pointed down the road. The intelligent animal seemed to uni derstand what was expected of hi.n. i "Find your mistress!" urged the solicitous Marshall. With a sharp bark, Bruno darted > through the cottage door. Down the winding road he ran, the ? V- T>~ r%? either, uvpciui IUUUU J^aiouau nu mo i heels, realizing UT>on how frail a thread i hung the fate of the woman he loved. CHAPTER XTir. ' AT HER MERCY. E Edna Deane shrank back to the edge E of the pit as she recognized the face of , the person who had come in response to her cries for aid. ' It was Beatrice Mercer; there could ( ' be no doubt of it, and the shock of the b recognition, a realization of the perfidy t nf her former friend, rirnve Edna to sud- I ' den silence. 1 She sank to the side of the pit and c looked up blankly. "Who is there, I say?" demanded J > Beatrice, peering sharply down. I "It i6 I; Edna?Edna Deane." I "Incredible!" J Beatrice recoiled as if dealt a sudden * 1 blow, and turnea white to the lips. | 5 Edna Deane! For the first time in her reckless, cruel career of subterfuge and c deceit the self-reliant schemer faltere J. ' t She had met her Waterloo in the fail- & ire of Tier scheme to delude Raymond a Uarshall. That had been the first break E ! in her plots, and now c How hai Edna l>eane come here? , ilive, when she deemed her dead! At ' Ihis of all places in the world, where a ( lingle misstep, a single suspicion 5 iroused on the part of old Mr. Ralston, , tfould strip the impostor of her borrowed plumage and place in her rightful position the persecuted, deceived Edna. For some moments Beatrice shrank > oack from the edge " of the pit, lost in , Wild augury and suspense. Then her t hard, practical mind grasped the situa tion. I She knew that Ralston was confined > lo his room. Both the steward and the > housekeeper had gone to the village 1 and would not return until late that 1 night. She called down to Edna. Word by word, sentence by sentence, she forced i her to tell how she had come there, t learned for the first time the entire [ truth about EdnVs peril and Edna's deliverance. Unheeding her appeals ? 5 for reBcue she compelled her to relate 1 her story. She knew that Edna would not falsify. ^ "You must make no outcry," she said, In a cold, steely tone of voice. "This place is a dangerous one for any stran1 ger. If I release you will you go away and never tell any one you ?aw me here nor seek to know why I am here, or re1 visit the place?" "Yes! yes!" assented Edna, eagerly, somehow terrified at the cruel, repellant expression in the face of her former friend. "Only one question?where is \Toi?eKoll xTAnr V?ncTmnrl?" itttj XiiUliU illttiOUttllj JVUl ^ J Beatrice's teeth closed with a vicious , snap. ( i "All is over between you two?he is mine now," she responded. "Remain j here until I return?until it is safe for ] mo to rescue you ana get you outside ' 1 the grounds." ' Then she was gone, and darkness and r silence supervened, and poor Edna, 1 shr.nking, trembling, awaited her fate, 1 with a confused sense of peril, of mys- t 1 tery in her agitated thoughts. e Beatrice had gone to her room in the ' mansion with a drawn brow and tightly ? compressed lips. 3 1 She had a hard problem fo study out, and it was perplexing her. Edna Deane, ? j whom she believed dead, had come t 1 across her path again. Of late, she had c 1 jegun to realize tne value of wealth; >ho was not yet hopeless of winning t Raymond Marshall to her side; but, if ? le learned that Edna was alive, if old Mr. Kalston asserted that she was an { impostor, what then? t Darker and liercer glowed the basilisk j >yes; more somber and tragic grew the sinister face. She dared not let Edna i jo free: it meant ultimate disaster to i ill her hopes and plans. She proceeded, finally, to another oom. In one corner of it was a large i cabinet. Unlocking and opening its ] ioors, she revealed row after row of i lhials and bottles, evidently the medl- i ;ine use by the invalid Ralston. i A la- ge bottle, bearing the label "chlo- ] oforra," attracted her attention, and 1 >he took it up, thoughtfully. I "I have only a short time to act, for ne burvuiJie win suuu iciuiu, uuc rnuinured. "I must quiet her, for I have lot time to get her out of the pit before .hey come back. I will empty the conrents of the bottle into the pit. They viil stupefy and silence her. Later, 1 will jet her out, imprison her, or?I must ake time to think. If the fumes kill ler that is not my fault," continued the loartless eiren. She went out into the garden, the botle in her hand. She reached the pit ind uncorked it "What was that?" She started with the ejaculation, and leered sharply at the near shrubbery, is she fancied she detected a rustling oovement there. It was not repeated, however, antl she eaneii over the edge of the pit once Lore. Emptying the volatile fluid into the iri?on-pIaco of her victim, the morciess plotter hastened from the spot, the esperate cruelty of murder in her f.cked heart. CHAPTER XVIII CONCLUSION. Too late!" Just as Beatrice Mercer hurried to- , tvard the house again the words emanited from the shrubbery near the pit, j. md the speaker stepped into view. It was Raymond Marshall, but not ihe Raymond Marshall of a few day9 previous. Hope, joy, excitement illuminated his radiant face; horror, too. f shadowed it, as he glanced after the dis- |( ippearing plotter. Thc-n he drew Into 1 :he open space another form. "She meant murder. Oh, cruel! cru II How can she be so heartless? And I oved her, trusted her as a sister." "Courage, Edna," spoke Marshall. 'The faithful Bruno led me here In , lime, It seems, to rescue you. You be- ( .ieve me now?that this womac de- , jeived me into that marriage, a farce J Jiat cannot dim our love, thpugh It may 1 part us in this world?" < "A1_ "r> ?A Iootb tVilq t?r- 1 VJ11) XVtt^y LLIULIU, ici uiv *vw v v .v_ rible plai-e!" > "Yes, I will take you back to the 'arm-house. Thentoieturn and learn ;he meaning of this .woman belqg here. Wait! Some one else is coming." He had been led to the spot by the slever Bruno not ten minutes previous, lad discovered Edna in the pit, had rescued her, and now both shrank into the ihrubbery again as two forma crossed he garden. The steward and the housekeeper, relurned from the village, their words eaching the ears of the listening Baynond Marshall caused him to start vioently, for they were discussing Beatrice fiercer. Creeping nearer to them, within two ninutes a hint, a word revealed to Bayuond Marshall's quick mind a marvel>us suggestion. tie guessed at the truth now. This lark schemer, Beatrice, had assumed Sdna Dearie's name and place. Her >lots, her sudden wealth, her strange novements all verified the surmise. For a few moments he reflected, rhen, as the two people entered the louse, he took Edna's arm, and led her owards its open front portals. Through the windows of a brightly lghted apartment he could see an old Invollrf'a ohflJlV and LI til J I eUllUlUg in cku &ui?4*u ~ , tear to him sat his pretended daughter, Beatrice Mercer. Without a word of explanation to the ihrinking Edna, fired with the zeal of a sonfident discovery, Raymond Marshall mtered tho house. A wild cry rang from Beatrice Mer- i ier'8 lips, an<^ Mr. Ralston stared won- i leriDgly at the intruders as Marshall i UK1 hi6 trembling companion abruptly ^ mtered the room. ? "Alice?Edna!" exclaimed the invalid; , who are these people?" , "Alice? Edna?" repeated Marshall, J lagerly. "Is that tho name 6he gives 1 lerself.'1 Pardon mo, sir, but I have in- < ruded hero bocauso I doem it a duty to j inmask that woman yonder." \ "That woman?my daughter!" ex- , :1 aimed Ealston, indignantly. I "She 1s not your daughter. Beatrice rlercer, your plots are known. Silence! will tell my 6tory." ' "White as martlo Beatrice shrank 1 ack as in forcible, emphatic words i taymon.l Marshall, sentence by sen- i ence, revealed his suspicions. He , orccd her to assont to his surmises; he ^ ompelled Edna to relate her story. Vith a look of an cor at the woman wno iad deceived him, with a loving glance it tho timid Edna, when all had been ixplained and made clear, Mr. Ralston 1 ipened his arms to his real daughter. | "Yes, yes. it is true!" he murmured. She has her Bainted mother's face. )h! bow could I be so deceived? As to 'OU " "Yes, as to me," cried the baffled 3eatrice, scornfully. "I am unmasked! Jo be It; but I etili have the power to nle. I know your secret?you, aD iscaped convict You will be glad to jlence my lips with half your fortune, >r I betray all." Ralston"paled and shuddered. At thai moment the door opened, however. An imaciated form crossed the room. "Rodney!" cried Mr. Ralston, amazed. It was the messenger he had sent tot Sdna to the Hopedale seminary, th? nan who had seemingly perished at thf >roken bridge. "Ye6, it is I," roplied Rodney. "Mlaculously escaped death; justrocovered rom my illness attending exposure am/ njury, and in time to refute what thai mpostor says, for I overheard her word? ind your own. Ralston, light has com? it last! The man for whose crimes you luffered imprisonment is dead; and, lying, he has confessed all and cleared our name from every taint of guilt!" "Oh. thank heaven!" cried Ralston, ervoutly. "At last! at last! AliceEdna, my darling child,, at last I can >ffer you an honored name, a loving lome!" "Mayyc.u be happy!" sneered Bea;rice, malevolently. "I am baflied. Beaten?at every point except one, ii seems, llaymond Marshall, remembei .hat the law gives me your name! Yoi iro my hus!>and. That is more to mt ;han the honor of being an ex-convict'# laughter or a wea'thy heiress!" "So bo it,!" spoke ltaymond Marshall solemnly. "In namo I am your husoand, but Edna Deano or Alice Kalstor ;ias my love till death. Fear not; J 3hall not bring reproach on her faii lame Dy remaining near her until the aw annuls a fraudulent marriage. 2dna. I must hasten to your friends, he lilakes, and tell tnem mat you art < safe. - They are very anxioi'B about you To-morrow I will como to see that'you I ire safe and happy, and then I leave 1 rou t j battle this woman for my rights. * : He passed from tho I10U90 as lie a ;poke. His heart was happy, despite I he complications that evil plotters had . :ast about his life. t- . - "i s=ity, old fellow!" uttered a m.iu;lllr. one, as he nearod the roa ! outside the uansion grounds. "Well, what is it?" demanded Marshall, regarding curiously the swaying, shabby form of a half-intoxicated man iear the wall. "Can you direct me? Looking for the sv&y into this pmce, aner a?a mena? i lady friend. You see " "Mercy! The minister!" With a start, Raymond Marshall surreved the man before him. Could it be possible? Yes; despite the vivid con:rast between those two times, the ragged, intoxicated tramp before him iras certainly the well-dressed, sedateooding clergyman who had performed ;he marriage ceremony between himself md Beatrice at the Hopedale hotel. What did it mean? A wild thrill perraded his frame at the man's next rVUiU?"You acquainted here? Well, I'm ooklng for a?a girl I've traced here, 3eatrice Mercer. Oh! I'm sharp, I am! hundred dollars! Humph! a man can't ifford to play minister for a measly lundred dollars! She's rich. I've traced ler. Bet I get a thousand, to shut my lps, or I tell all I know." All he knew! Within half an hour Aaymond Marshall was in possession of lis secret, 6tupidly blurted out in his aaudlin wanderings. Dr. Simms, unable to secure the vllage clergyman, had hired this advenurer to personate one. The marriage was a fraud. It was no narriage at all, and the last blow was liven to Beatrice Mercer's sfatelv fabrio >r fraud she had so carefully erected, is the tramp told his story in the drawng-room of the mansion a few moments ater. "She leaves my roof at once!" cried iiie excitea jar. naiston, dud .nana, mora norciful, insisted that Beatrice be prodded with sufficient to begin life over igain in some remote place, and tearully bade her go and sin no more. They never heard of her again, and vhen they thought of her it was with u hudder, as they realized how nearly ter cruel plottings had ruined all their lopes and happiness. And the stately mansion and its >euutiful grounds became an earthljf iaradise io the two united hearts, whose oyal devotion had brought them, at the ast, love's brightest, holiest reward. [the en?] 1 lie While House Doll House. "The doll play house has long been without an occupant," remarked on< sf the attaches of the Executive Mansion, m speaking of the doll house which has been stored under the east5rn portico of the White House for s number of yearn. "This play houee was given to Nellie Arthur, and war much used by her and her girl friends, [t was nicely furnished. One of the two rooms was furnished as a kitchen md dining room, and the other as s combination sitting room and parlor. Nellie Arthur, when she first came tc the White House, was of the doll age, but before she was here long she grew Dut of it, and the doll honse was deserted. It has had no occupant since, ind is not likely to have any for some time. "Only two children can get in the loose at the same time. mere nave oeen a number of applicants for the house, bat every one has hesitated tc 3o anything about it. Of course, Nellie Arthur, or any one authorized by her could get the house by simply sending for it, for it is her private property, and though it has been stored under the east portico, the Government has no control over it. Nellie Arthur has children of her own now, md Bhe may send for it some day foi bhem. For the children, and especially bhe girls of doll age. it is the most interesting thing about the White House."?Washington Star. Not Eager for service lu Cuba. Spanish soldiers are betraying an nsur mountable aversion to a campaign n Cuba, and desertions have been rery frequent of late. This has led tc ;he adoption of an extremely strict furveillance along the Pyrenean fron;ier, and all the trains running to France aro carefully scrutinized by ;he Spanish gendarmes, to the annoymce and discomfort of many of the 1_ i. _ J passengers. loung men are suujeuieu ;o a severe examination, and those who are nnable to establish their identity or give a satisfactory explanation jf the motives of their journey are compelled to alight, and are conducted to the gendarmerie, where they are igain plied with questions, all the deserters detected in this way being at ance handed over to the military authorities. This often entails con6idarable delay, and, in spite of the watchfulness of the officials, many poung soldiers still succeed in making kViai* vonrr intn PmncB ?"London Tele M4W4* ?? VJ _ W.MWW. graph. _ In Favor of the Rockcr. In every American home the rocking ihair is regarded as an indispensable tccessory. Those who love their rock* ng chair will be glad to know that a nedical authority has recently prolonnced it to be of nee in oertain sasea of dyspepsia. If the patient ies in an almost horizontal position, md the movement of rocking is very fen tie in character, good reEnlts have >een know to follow, utipposedly be* :ause the movement stimnlates the ligestive organs. I wonld warn peo* )le, however, against the introdnc;ion of a rocking chair in the nnreery, yhere there are very young children. while playing they are apt to nttnriy lisregard danger, and have ofton been iqneezed beneath the rockers. A^airi ihere is danger in uping tho rocking ihair near delioale bric-a-brao of glass :abineta for obvious reason?. Quaint Epitaph of Yale's Founder. It is not generally known that Eli bn Tale, the founder of Yule University, ies buried in the churchyard at Wrexlam, North Wales, about ten miles rom Hawarden. The following lines ire inscribed on his tomb in front o) he church door: 'Bora in Amtsrica, in Europe breJ, n Africa traveled and in Asia wed; iVhere lonp he lived and thrived, in Londor ueuu. tluch good, some ill he did, so hope alPf even, Lnd that his soul through mercy's gone tr Heaven." These quaint lines had become alnost effaced by the "tooth of Time," vhen, a few years ago, a party oi iTalensians visited the church and, seeng the state of things, had tha letter' ng recut. The church itself is a very )ld one. more than five centnl-ies. it is laid, and the curfew is rung from its jells every eveDing.?New York Independent. 1 ! FASHION FANCIES. FEMININE GARMENTS FOR INDOOR AND OUTDOOR WEAR. Double-Breasted Cape of Scotch I'weed?Handsome Wai9t of Green Berejce?Misses' Combing; Sacque. \ I t HE serviceable and protective I , double-breasted cape depicted in the first large en6 graving is made in heavy Scotch tweed and trimmed with wide Bercnles braid. The cape, of becoming length, is oircular in shape with a DOUBLE-BRI centre back seam rendering the adjustment smooth fitting across the shoulders with the lower edge falling in soft, graoeful folds. Wide lapels turn back from the fronts at the top, and the closing is effected in doublebreasted fashion with coat hooks and eyes, handsome buttons supplying the decoration. The neck is completed with a storm collar that may be rolled back in co&t style, and finished with regular tailor stitching. The mode is particularly adapted for general or every-day wear, the over-lapping front providing additional warmth. When lined throughout or made in the regulation heavy cloaking, the cape may be safely worn in midwinter. The coat collar should have an interlining of light weight canvaB in its natural color, "tan," and the cape an interlining of light weight crinoline when made in the lighter cloths. To make this cape for a lady having a thirty-six inch bust measure, one and one-quarter yards of material fiftyfour inches wide is required.?New fork Modes. ladies' waist op gbeen bebeqe. Foliage green berege sprinkled with autumn-leaf-red velvet dots is the material illustrated in the handsome waist which is made to match the skirt, and prettily decorated with barbs of la<w passementerie and edging to match. The crush collar and belt with band and underfacing of red velvet, rosettes of net and foliage green, velvet flowers. The full fronts and back of waist are arranged over glove-fitted linings that close in centre-front, the full right front lapping over the closing and being secured invisibly under the lace passementerie on the left lining. The fashionable sleeves are gracefully disposed over smooth fixed linings, the full tops being shirred in centre and caught up with barbs of passementerie from the shoulder. The wrists are bell shape and faced inside with leaf-red velvet, bows being placed just above the flare. Thie is a stylish model for separate waists of silk or the fine smooth woolen fabrics introduced for autumn that-bid fair to outshine the silk waists of last season. Any preferred style of trimming can be used, splendid garniture forming a prominent feature of the waists this season. I ' * LADIES' WAIST 0 To make the waist for a lady in the medium size will require two and onennnrter vards of forty-four inch wide material. THE SEASON'S NEW COATS. Coat sleeves are smaller than last year, and have the fulness drawn nearer the shoulder. The loose front is most in vogne, and the back, called the empire, which hangs much like a watteau plait, is high in favor. The black coat, unless in velvet, will 1 1 ^ * A-Al ? r*/\n^o in rlo/iula/1 D6 UUb II t lit? WUl'U. \J\JUV0 iu uvviuvKi colors are the fashion. Many of the new coats are of mauve or dark green kersey or melton cloth. Then there are the red and dark bine coats and those in varying shades of brown. And all of the coats are much trimmed. Braiding has never been as fashionable aB it is this season. The best effects ore obtained when the braiding is done over silk. Jet is used as a trimming on the elaborate coats, and also feathers. Then velvet and fur are both introduced in many novel ways. As for the collars, they are remarkable creations in themselves. They are very high and are cut in odd Bhapes. A typical coat of the season for tall, slender women is a loose coat of dark blue kersey cloth, trimmod with a VVIOATT nnrl A K*?ai ^ Tk n Vt | xiia uiaiuiuK 2ASTED CAPE. forms a yoke in the back and outlines the shape of the figure in. the front. isevers or reraian lamD oegin ai iue bottom of the coat, very narrow, bat broading as they reaoh the shoulders. There is a high Persian lamb collar and deep, flaring cuffs of the fur, which are cut in points and edged with the braid. Odd-looking jeweled buttons are used as ornaments. A fashionable little coat, much less expensive than the one just mentioned, is made of dark red melton cloth, trimmed with black braid. The front of the coat forms a box plait and the back is tight fitting. A box coat, severely plain with the exception of its rows of stitching, is much in favor for ordinary wear. But all the new coats are not loose fitting. Many of them cling closely to the figure. Some women will wear nothing else.?New York Journal. misses' combing sacque. This practical garment is made of French flannel in-turquoise b'ue with IIIWUIIU^O \JX WA U AWUV MMM ?Mxwa COMBING SACQUE FOB JOSSES. Gathers at the neck dispose the fulness at either side while the closing in in centre with buttons and button holes. The seamless back, smooth fitting across the shonlders, has the fulness drawn well to the centre at the waist line by three rows of shirring. Ribbon ties fastened at either end are carried forward to terminate in the centre front by pretty bows and ends, I thus holding the fnlness of the fronts *Hk . *Vh * F GREEN BEREQE. in position. The sleeves, of moderate fulness, are gathered top and bottom, finishing at the wrists with narrow bands of insertion edged with lace. The handsome sailor collar falls deeply in back and front, ?aring a little in tho centre, and is trimmed with insertion and lace edging. Charming negliges can be fashioned after this design in light tones of any pretty but in less expensive flannellettes which are used for more serviceable wear in deep red, pink or blue, A simple finish may be given in feather stitching. To make this combing sacque 1 for a miss fourteen years of age it will require three yards of forty-four inoh wide material. \ " PHYLLIS. Oh, Phyllis is surpassing fair, I know no maid that's fairer; Her beauty i3 beyond compare; No beauty could he rarer. She scorueth flckle fashion's guide, ' An/1 wiaoar ia Imr outran ? . Yet she's the pride of the country sido And the envy of the town! 1 She is a queen we all declare, Though no crown she possesses, Beyond a wealth of rich brown hair That hangs in dainty tresses; Her matchless eyes have long outvied The gems tn monarch's crown ? And sha's the pride of the country sido And the envy of the town! ' . Her form is full of fairy grace, Her voice is musio mellow, And, oh! the bloom upon her faco Is the red rose's tel low; Ah! he who wins her for his brido Wins more than wealth, renown? _ ... .. ... . ... for sne's tne priae 01 tne country siac And the envy of the town! ?Chambers's Journal. PITH AND POINT. <j Barnegat? "But do you think our candidate is sound?" Mackinaw? "He's nothing else."?Boston Transcript. A curious result of pulling the leg is that no matter how tall the victim wae before, he's generally a little short after it.?Philadelphia Times. Student?"Last year I had six new suite made /or me." Friend?"I didn't suppose there were so many tailors in town.'?rnegenae x>iaeii;er. By Actual Count"Mamma, I saw a dog to-day that bad only three legs." "Weren't you awfully sorry for him?" "No'm; he had one more leg than I had."?Tit-Bits. She rose'agitatedly. "Janitor," she cried through the speaking tube, "wo must have some freah air. Suppose I should wish to inflate my bicycle."? Detroit Tribune. "You are late this morning," eaiJ the floorwalker to the * bookkeeper. "los," replied the latter. "I was on) last night." "How much?" asked the floorwalker.?Pittsburgh ChronicleTelegraph. Private?"May I have a furlough for a day? We slaughter our hogs tomorrow." Sergeant?"All right. If you want to stay a day or two longer, just send me word?but wrap it up carefully."?Fliegende Blaetter. The month of the lily, the month of th? , rose, Are charming enough, just as sentiment goes; ?5ut ior most soiiu rapiurc, as uiae pasatwj I bask on the month which brings in pumpkin pie. ?Chicago Becord. The Intelligent "Domestic: "Coofr? how loog did you boil these eggs?"" "Noine minutes, mum." "Bat I told you that I wanted my eggs boiled three minutes." "Thot'd true, mum; but there was t'ree eggs, mum, an' t'ree times t'ree is noine."?Harper'* v Bazar. Had Seen Prairies: Fond Mother? "Yes, the dear little fellow ie just full Ot gooa impulses. rjuaie, 11 you were rich what would you do with yoar money?" Eddie (who had traveled some)?"I'd buy a billion stones and take 'em out to Iowa for the poor little boys out there to throw at cats."? New York Weekly. "I wish you would tell me," said the agent, who had been on Mr. Snaggs's trail, "what is your insuperable objection to insuring your life?'* "1 don't mind telling you," replied Snaggs. "The idea of being more valuable after I am dead than while I am alive is distasteful to me."?Pittsburg Chronicle-Telegraph. "1 dunno ez the prodigal son was sovery bad, after all," said Mrs. Corntossel. "He wa'n't no good to his family," her husoand rejoined. "That's a fact. But when ho got home ho ^ TO C aian i oev do mora ier nay. ?ji uc u been like most o' the men folks nowadays, the fast thing he'd of done would of been to find fault with the way tbe fatted calf was cooked."?Washington. Star. Burglary is >'ow a Science. The modern bnrglar is a scientist and inventor in his way. Recently a new era in safe breaking and other branches of the cracksman's art has opened, and the famous jimmy, so long rampant on the saccessfal burglar's coat of arms, is to be superseded by more convenient labor saviag tools. In Marseilles, France, the other day a gang of ingenious cracksmen entered a banker's office armed with a steel Baw of the newest construction and a bandy little gas engine, xnere was no need for the exercise of muscle, nor was there any necessity for a good strong wrist at the saw, as there was at one time in the annals of famous robberies. The light engine' was started, the saw put in the proper place, and the connections made. Seating themselves Berenely upon a couple of chairs near at hand, these modern burglars watched the true and rapid work oi their appliances. r The big safe might have resisted for hours the force of human hands, but the saw, impelled by the engine, it could not stand against. The stout iron safe promptly yielded up its con? tentsof many.thousandsdollars' worth of gold and bonds, and in a quarter of tbe time it would have taken to have committed the robbery under the old conditions the burglars were well out of the building with their booty. Bald Headed Men Not Seusitive, "Then, too, I think the race of men is not so sensitive as it used to be. To be bald is not criminal, and ihe man bo. afflicted takes it simply as something unavoidable, and when he looks around he can see thousands to keep him company and giv? him strength to remain as nature maae hira. unca be wears a wig, however, the chancea are that he will keep it on. It is a protection as weli as a substitute for his lack. To take it off would be just like taking off heavy clothing in tl^e middle of winter. - ??"Do many women wear wigs? No; women have the advantages over men. The poor fellow who loses hair has left to him generally a few strau !s that he careluiiy i:\stens across tho cleared spot. The vornan can use a bang or something hke that; an.i, anyway, she generally has a lot of ii iir that she can pile over the baldness.'* ?Xew York Times.