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=1“ ~’».,d..~. a" g. 3. g l FATE’S INSTRUMENTS. George was to earn Mr. Espion a. lit- tle more yet. as it turned out. He had not gone many steps before he saw his cousin Gerald making his bow to Mrs. Pocklington. Mr. Espion saw him too, and was on the alert. Gerald was closely followed by Tommy Myles. "Ah, the enemy!" exclaimed George under his breath. pursuing his way to- wards Laura Pocklington. The throng was thick. and his pro- grem slow. He had time to observe Gerald. who was now talking to Tom- my and to Sidmouth Vane, who had joined them. Gerald was speaking low, but his gestures betrayed strong excitement. Suddenly he began to walk rapidly towards George, the peo- ple seeming to fall aside from his path. Tommy Myles followed him, while Vane all but ran to George and whis- pered eagerly, "For God's sake. clear out, my dear fellow! He's mad! There'll bea shindy. as sure as you're bornl" , George did not like shindies. especial- ly in drawing-rooms; but he liked run-« ning away less. “Oh. let's wait and. see." he replied. ' l Gerald avas looking dangerous. The healthy ruddiness of his cheek had darkâ€" ened to a deep flush. his eyes looked vicious. and his mouth was set. As he walked quickly up to his cousin. ev- erybody tried to look away; but out of the corners of two hundred eyes eager glances centred on the pair. "May I have a word with you?" Gerald began, calmly enough. "As many as you like; but I .don’t mow that this placeâ€"â€"” "It will do for what I have to say." Gerald interrupted. "All right.; \Vhat is it?" "I want two things of you. First. you will promise never to dare to ad- dress myâ€"Mrs. \Vitt again." "And the second?" asked George. “You will write and say you've told lies, and are sorry for it." “I address whom I please and write what I please." Vane. interposed. I “Really. Nestonâ€"you, Gerald, Imean ~don't make a row here. Can’t you get him away, Tommy?" . Gerald gave Tommy a warning look. and poor Tommy shook his head mournâ€" fully. ‘ . v George felt the necesaity of avoiding a scene. He began to move quietly‘ away. Gerald stood full in his path. "You don't go till you've answered. \Vill you do what I tell you?" "Really. Gerald," George still clinging to peace. "ch or no?" . “No,” said George, with a smile and a shrug. "Then. you cur, takeâ€"-' In another moment he would have struck George full in the face, but the vigilant Vane caught his arm as he raised it. "You damned fool! Are you drunk?" ho hissed into his ear. "Everylxidy’s looking." It‘was true. Everybody was. "All the better," Gerald blurted out. "I'll thrash himâ€"-" Tommy Myles ranged up 51nd passed his hand through the angry man’s oth- er arm. "Can't you go. George?" asked Vane. "No." said ("nxorge, calmly; "not till he's quiet." . The hush that had fallen on the room attractcd Mrs. Pocklington's attention. In a moment. as it seemed, though her movements were as :1 rule slow and stately. she. was beside them. just in time to see Gerald make a violent cfâ€" fort to throw off Vane's detaining hand. "I cannot get anybody to go into the music-room," she said; "and the signora is waiting to begin. Mr. Neston, give me your arm, and we will show the way." Then her eyes seemed to fall for the first time on George. "Oh, you. here 1100, Mr. George? Laura is look- ing for you everywhere. Do find her. Come, Mr. Neston. Mr. Vane, go and give your arm to a lady." The, group scattered, obedient to her commands. and every-Indy breathed a little sigh. half of relief. half of disap- intmcnt. and told one another that frs. Pocklington was a great woman. "In another second." said Tommy Myles. as be restored himself with a lass of champagne. "it would have on a. 0.180 of Bow Street!" “I think it. fairly amounts to a fra~ ens," said Mr. Espion to himsolf: and as a fracas, accordingly, it figured. CHAPTER. IX. . On the following morning. Lord Tot- tlcburv mt as arbitrator. gave an im- artiai consideration to both sides of he question, and awarded that George should a 010ng for his charges. Ger- aid for his violence. Lord Tottlebury argued the case with ability, and his final judgment. was able and conclusive. Unfortunately. however, misled by the habit before mentioned of writing to the papers about. matters other than those which immediately conccrnnd him. Lord Tottleburv forgot that neither party had asked him to adjudicate, and, although Maud Ncsion was quite con- vinced by his reasoning, his award re- mained an iiniun in vacuo: and the two clear am full letters which he wrote expressing his views wen- con- alum-d by their respective recipients to the waste-paper lmkct. Each of the 'oung men thanked Lord Toiilebnry or his kind efforts, but feared that the unreasonable temper displayed by the other would render any attempt at an arm :ment futile. Lord Tottlcl-ury sight“ . and sadly returned to his article on "What the Kain-r should do next." He was in a hurry to finish it, lwrause ho 315) had on hand a reply to Profes- sor Drossmgham‘sdpapcr on "The Gos- pel Narrative an , the Evolution of Crustacea in the Southern Seas." After his outburst. Gerald Neslon had .Ilpwnd animal" to be taken home quietly. and the next morning he had no for recovered his seams :is to promise Sidinouth Vane [bit he would no’ in have recourse to pemonal \‘iolcnccy e an“ he had noted on a momentary began. impulseâ€"which Vane did not believeâ€" an . at any rate, nothing of the kind need beapprehended again, but as for apologising. he should as soon think of? backing George's boots. In fact. he was. on the whole, well pleased with himself, and, in the course of the day. went off to Neaera to receive her thanks and approval. He foundher in very low spirits. She had been disappointed at the failure of her arrangement With George, and half inclined to rebel at Gerald's peremptory ' veto on any attempt at bushing up the question. She had timidly tried the line of pooh-poohing the whole matter, and Geraldhad clearly shown her that, in his opinion, if admitted of no such treatment. She had not dared to ask him seriously if he would marry her. supposing the accusation were true. A joung.question of the kind had been put aSide asialmost in bad taste, and, at any rate. ill-timed. Consequently she was uneasy. and ready to be very mis- erable on the slightest provocation. But to-day Gerald came in a different mood: He was triumphant, gressive, and fearless; and before he ad been in the room ten minutes, he broached his new deSignâ€"a design that was to show con- cluSchly the esteem in which he held the Vile slanders and their utterer. "Be married directly! Oh, Gerald!” "\l by not, darling?" It will be the best answer to them." » "W hat would your father say?" "I know he will approve. Why shouldn't he?" "Butâ€"but everybody is talking about me." . "What do I care?" ’ It suits some men to be in love, and Gerald looked very well as he threw out his defiance urbi et orbi. Neaera was charmed and touched. "Gerald dear. you are too goodâ€"you are, indeed, too good to me and too good for me." Gerald said. in language too eloquent to be reproduced, that nobody could help being "good" to her. and nobody in the world was good enough for her. _ "And are you content to take me en- tirely on trust?" “Absolutely.” "\i'hile I am under this shadow?" “You are.und_er no shadow. I take your word implicity, as I would take it against gods and men.” "Ah. I don’t deserve it." "\Vho could look in your eyes"â€" Gerald was doing soâ€"“and think of de- ceit? \Vhy do you look away. sweet- heart?" “I daren’tâ€"I daren’tl" "\Vhat 2" “Beâ€"beâ€"trusted like that !" Gerald smiled. "Very well; then you shan’t be. I will treat you as ifâ€"as if %.(l?ll1'll.)ted you. Then will you be satis- lt‘i Neaera tried to smile at this pleasan- try._ She was kneeling by Gerald’s ghair as she often did, looking up at 1m. "Doubted me 9" she said. "Res, Since. you won’t let your eyes speak. for you. 1 will put you to the question. \Vill that be enough ?” Poor Neaeral she thought it would be quite enough. "And I will. ask you, what I have never condescended to ask yet, dearest, if there's_a word of truth in it all f” Gerald, still playfully, took one of her hands and raised it aloft. "N owlook at me and sayâ€"what shall be your oath ?" ‘ Neaera was silent. This' passed words; every time she spoke she made it worse. "I know," pursued Gerald, who was nipch pleased with his little comedy. “Say this, ‘On my honour and love, I am not the girl.’ " .W'hy hadn’t. she. let him alone with his nonsense about her eyes? That was not, to Ncaera's thinking, as bad as a. be direct. “On her honour and love!" She could not help hesitating for just a moment. "I am not the girl, on my honour and love." Her words came almost With a sob, a. stifled sob, that made Gerald full of remorse and penitence, and loud in imprccations on his own stupidity. “lt was all a joke, sweetest," he pleaded; “but it was a stupid joke, and it has distressed you. Did you dream I doubted you?” ‘lNOlll ‘:\\'cll, then. say you knew it was a joke." “Yes dear,. I know it was,â€"of course it was; but it--â€"it rather frightened me." "Poor child! Never mind; you’ll be amused when you think of it presently. And, my darling, it really, seriously. does make me happier. I never doubted. but it is pleasant to hear the truth from your own sweet lips. Now I am ready for all the world. And about the day i" “The. (lay ?” ‘ "Of coume you don't know what day! Shall it be directly ?" "What does ‘direclly' mean 2" asked what Ncacra, mustering a rather watery smile. “In a week." “Gerald !" But, after the usual negotiations, Ncaera was brought to consent to that day three weeks, provided Lord Tottle- bury's approval was obtained. “And, plcasc. don't; quarrel your cousin any more!" “I can't afford to let him alone now." ".-\.nd-â€"-â€" Arc you going-Gerald!" "No time to lose. l‘in off to soc the governor, and 1 shall come back and fetch you to dine in Portman Square. Good-bye for an hour. darling!" "Gerald. suonose-â€"~" "\i'ell l" “lfâ€"lfâ€"â€"â€" No, nothing. dear: and--â€"" "\\'hat is it, sweet l" "Nothin râ€"well. and don't be long." Gerald departed in ruptures. As Soon as he was out of the room, the Iaillcss cat emerged from under the sofa. Hc hated violent motions of all kinds, and lovers are restless beings. Now. thank heaven! there was a chance of lying on the hearth~rug without being trod- den upon! "Did you hear that. Bob f" Ncaera. “Iâ€"I went the whole didn't Ii" Lord Tottlcbury. who was much less inflexible than he seemed, did not hold out long against Gerald's vehemcuce. and the news soon spread that defiance was to be. hurled iii George's face. The Bull‘s-eye was triumphant. Isabel llouim and Maud Nestor: made a hero of Gerald and a heroine of Neaera. 13:32:33; Min-s hastened to secure the pucil'd n of "ms: man," and Sidmouth wi t h Good-bye, asked hog, Vane discovered and acknowledged a deep worldly wisdom in Gerald's con- duct. “Of course," mid he to Mr. Blodwell, on the terrace, "if it came out before the marriage, he'd stand pledged to throw her over. with the cash. But .afterwardsl \K'ell, it won't affect the :scttiement, at all events." g I Mr. Blodwell said he thought her- ‘ltiid. had not been actuated by this mo- ! ive. i “Depend upon it, he has," persxsted Vane. “Before marriage, the deuce! After marriage, a little weep and three months on the Rivieral" “Oh, I suppose, if it'came out after marriage, George would hold his ton- I gue. } "Do you. by Jove? .Then he’d be'the most forgiving man in Europe. \\ by, ' he's been hunted down over the busmess â€"â€"simply hunted down!" "That's true. No, I suppose he'd be bound to have his revenge." _ ‘ “Revenge! He'd have to justify himself." . . Mr. Blodwell had the curiOSity . to plilf‘slle the subject With George him- se . “After the marriage? Oh. I don't pknow. I should like to score off the lot of them." "Naturally," said Mr. Blodwell. . "At any rate, if I find out anything .before I shall let them have it. ‘lhey ’haven't spared me." “Anything new i" . "Yes. They’ve got the committee at the Themis to write and tell me that it's awkward to have Gerald and me in the same club." "That’s strong." "I have to thank Master Tommy 'for that. Of course it means that I'm to go; but I won't. If they like to kick me out, they can." "What's Tommy Myles so hot: against you for?" "Oh, those girls have got hold of himâ€"Maud, and Isabel Bourne." “Isabel Bourne i” ‘ "Yes," said George, meeting Mr. [Boldwell's questioning eye. "'lominy ‘has a mind to try his luck there, I i think." I "Vice you retired." ' "\Vell, retired or turned out. Its like the army, you know; the.two come to pretty much the same thin ." “You must. console yourse if, my boy." said Mr. Blodwell, slyly. He heard of most things, and he had heard of Mrs. last dinner- party. "Oh, I’m an outcast now. would look at me." “Don't be a humbug, George. Go and see Mrs. Pocklington, and, for hea- ven's sake let me get to my work.'_' It was Mr. Blodwell's practice to inveigle people into long gos- sips, and. then abuse them for wasting his time ; so George was not disquieted by the re roach, But he took the advice. and ca led in 'Grosvenor Square. He found Mrs. Pocklington in. but she was not alone. | Her visitor was a very famous person, lhitherto known to Geor e only by re- ‘putc.-â€"the Marquis of luplcdurhzim. i The Marquis was well known on the iturf and alsoas patron of art. but it lis necessary to add ih'it more was known of him than was known to his advantage. In fact. 'he gave many people the opportunity of saying they would not count him among their acâ€" quaintances: and he gavn very few of them the chance of breaking their word. He and Mrs, Po.~kiingtun am- used one another. and, whatever he did, he never said anything that was open to complaint. For some time George talked to Laura. Laura. having once come over to his side, was full of a convert/5 zeal, and poured abundant oil and wine in- to his wounds. “ How could I eVer have looked at Isabel Bourne when she was there i" he began to think. i “ Mr. Neslon." said Mrs. Poeklington, " Lord Mapledurham wants to know whether you are the Mr. Neston." “ Mrs Pocklington has betrayed me, Mr. Neston," said the Marquis. “I am one of the two Mr. Nestons, I suppose." said Geocge, smiling. “Mr. George Neston ‘2" asked the Marquis. u Yes.” . > “ And you let him come here, Mrs. Pocklingron i" “ Ah. you know my house is a. cara- vanserai. I heard you remark it your- self the other day." "I shall go.” said the Marquis, ris- ing. “And, Mrs. Pocklington, I shall be content if you say nothing worse of my house. Good-bye, Miss Laura. IMr. Ncmou, I shall have a. small party of bachelors toâ€"morrow. I‘ wi 1 be very kind it you will join Dinner at eight." “ See what it is to be an abused man," said Mrs. Pooklinglon, laughing. " In these days the wicked must stand shoulder lo shoulder," said the Marquis. ; George accepted; in truth, be was Pocklingtonfs No one rather flattered. And Mrs. Pockling- ton went away for quite. a quarter of an hour. So that, altogether, he re- turned to the opinion that. life is worth living, before he left the house. (To be Continued.) TH E MIKADO'S VISIT. The London Chronicle mys it learns on excellan authority that the Mikado contemplates a tour through Europe at some future time. If he is able to car- ry out this plan he will be the first Japanese Emperor who has ever been allowed to leave his dominions. It seems. however, that there are great dillicul- tics in the way, the old or fanaticalJapâ€" anese party objecting stron ly in so rc- inarksiile an innovation. "he Turkish fanatics did thc szixnc thing when Abâ€" dud Aziz announced his intention of paying a visit to Paris and London. but they Were unable to prevent it, and that luckless sovereign was the first Turkish sovereign who ever crossed the frontics of his cinpire, except as a con- queror. The Mikado is a highly edu- catcd man. who speaks European lan~ guagcs. and his visit, should it ever take place, will be an event of great interest. A NE\\' SORT 0F HEADACHE. An English physician has discovered a new sort of headache. as if there were not enough already known. He has designated the new style "Acad- emy headache." and says it is caused by looking at pictures that are hung too high or by mainiiining :i gaz~= that requires the directing of the eyesaImvc the normal attitude. ‘ M..- DANGER 0F lCED DRINKS. The excessive amount of perspiration which the warm weather brings about. invariably gives rise to more or less thirst. In their desire to satisfy the lcraving for liquids, people are most apt to commit unwise and often injuri- lous mistakes. InSLead of partaking more freely of the beverage which Mo- ther Nature has so lavishly given us, ingenuity has been taxed to its utmost for the invention of all kinds of arti- ficial drinks, which increase rather than quench the thirst, while at the same time they are most likely to do a great deal of harm to the system. \Vith the view of allaying ihirst,liqâ€" uids should be taken cool but not ice cold, for the sudden shock to the over- heated system would, in many instances prove dangerous, more especially when the body is in a state of profane per- spiration. Sudden death_ has been known to result from the introduction of iced fluids into the stomach, when the body is overheated. . _ _ The addition of some fruit juice or acid makes the water more palatable and satisfies the dcstre for liquids. _ After milk, about the most refreshing and non-irritating summer bevei‘age‘is cold tea. to which a little lemon juice has been added. Cold fluids should not be_ taken too quickly, but by degrees, this is safer, and quenches the thirst more readily then when taken all at once. . An exceedingly wholesome and nutri- tious beverage m' be made from oat- meal to which cod water has been added. ‘» _ _ Particular attention should be given the selection of fruit syrups purchased in stores, being sure to take only those that are unadulterated and free from deleterious properties, and put up by reliable manufactures“ . Of course, when it_is possmle. the safest and best way is to make them at home, selecting rich, ripe fruit. Children especially should be taught the danger of taking a large draught of cold water directly after playing around and getting overheated. Delicious lemonade may be made from the juice of six lemons, a little fruit juice of some kind, add a. quart of wa- ter and Siveeten to taste. This Will be both palatable and refreshing. Never throw away tea or coffee that is left over at meal times, but strain, put in a cool place, and when .ready for use add a lit-tie lemon, this is an- other very acceptible summer drink.â€" Florence L. Baldwin, New dork. l IN TIME OF NEED. I do not'intend to deal with the medi- cal side of this question, but the plain, every side. If the “housemother” is taken sick in the country, there is of- ten no help to be secured. I have known the same state of things to ex- ist in the small towns. Often the fam- ily has immigrated from an Eastern home, so that the husband, wife, and two or three little ones are all in all to each other. Under just such cir- cumstances it was once my painful ex- perience to be sickâ€"so sick I could scarcely be without personal attend- ance for even a. few minutes at a timeâ€"4 for over three weeks, convalescence “dragging its slow length along" into months. Some of my neighbors came in at different times. dressed in fine clothing, bonneted. vailed and gloved. I I knew that the kitchen table was stacked with soiled dishes; this they passed. I knew also that they had to pick their steps to avmd the mud that several pairs of careless feet brought in in their careless travels from out- doors straight to mamma's bedSIde, and the glimpse I got of the carpet in my own room assured me that it was any- thing but presontable. Yet those _wo- men would sit for two hours at atime and, upon leaving *would inquire i there was anything 1 Wished them to do, two even going so far as to ask; to take home my large washing. I thank- ed them, declining their offers. Thank Heaven, they were not all like these. Several came dressed in calico or ging- . ham, and brought order out of chaos, not even asking me if I wanted any- thing done. They saw what was need- ed, and (lid it. It wasthen that. I learned what a blessmg it was to have good neighbors. _ . There are usually .enough of Willing neighbors to accomplish a great amount: of help similar to the above. if it were only planned systematically; but it is the lack of system that thwarts, or at least hinders, the usefulness of such he! . IR instead of each one coming hap- hazard, as is usually the case. _thcy would all meet and plan! "\Vhat' 15 ev- erybody‘s business is nobody's busmessf’ so one must take the lead. Arrange it so as to disturb the order of your own home as little as possible, being sure that the stricken family will be thank-l ful to have help at all, even if washday is not Monday and cleaning day Sat- urday. I _ . . One might aswme the i sponsdnlity of the bread-making; (enough can be made in one day to last. a week. Any of the family. even the child, can pro- pare. yeast the night previous, so that sponge will be ready when the baker larrives. Another can attend to .thc {pastry etc. Flour and other things 3 could be taken to your own homes, and i the baking of all kinds might be accom- i plishcd with greater ease in that. way. l'l'bere are many ways to facilitate things in this line, if We think and rea- son together. If two could arrange to go the same day, the washing and clean- ~ ing might all be done up in one day; trying not to let more than om- day pass without Some one bum there. Other duties can be assume hesules those mcntioned. It is hard to give help while one needs it oneself; but surely something can be done of which the above is a mere hint. The first and most important duty to be attended to upon the arrival of an ' one is, of course, to see that the sic one is comfortable, and the sick room in order. If the Weather is not too inclcmcul, open all windows and doors. letting the wind blow through the room for five minutes. if the patient is well cover- ie-l, no danger will Icsplt. in mild weather like Windows should be lct down an ill-“ii or two at the top con- i l slantly. (Some people seem to have a great dread of a little clean air enter- ing at the windows.) pleted and the furniture dusted, return Eall necessary things to their accustom- led places, not forgetting a few flowers ilf they are to be had. Don‘t try to .clmngethingsarcund much, asit might 3cause inconvenience to the family. lit-- »ter this, the kitchen claims your at- tention. 1 Remember that at no time is he] , appreciated so much as in sickness. an ‘that the _s1ck. like the poor. you have always With you; and if you do not re- ceive hpr when your time comes, you Will at least rest in the assurance that you did your duty, which is, in itself sweet pcace.â€"â€"Macndmns. CHEERF‘ULNESS. Be cheerful. It is trite advice to tell women to take each day as it com to avmd remorse over what is done an forebodings over what is to come;_hut I it is no. less valuable advice. Nervous prostration is seldom the result of pre- sent trouble or work. but of work and trouble antic1pated. Mental exhaustion icomes to those who look ahead and climb mountains before they arrive at them. Resoluter build a. wall about loâ€"day and live within the enclosure. The past may have been hard. sad or wrong. It is over. The future may be like _the past, but the woman who worries about it may not live to most it. If she docs she will bear it. The only thing with which she should conâ€" cern itsel is toâ€"day. its sunshine. its air, its friends, its frolics, its wholesome work, and perhaps, its necessary sor- â€"* row. SOME NOTED PREACHERS. They Andros-r Audiences l-tnllrcly for (he l‘lezisurc of Talking. Emperor \Villiam's taste for preach< ing, even where there is a duly quali- fied ecclesiastic within reach, is far more common fancy than most people might be willing to imagine. Under the circumstancm it is difficult to under- stand ilie surprise which has been caus- ed by his insistence in delivering the Sunday discourse during the recent yachting trip to the Mediterranean. al- though he had, on board with him the chief of the court chaplains. Thus in England there are at least a dozen secular members of the House of Lords who, not content with preach- ing to their own households and tenants, actually travel about in England and on the continent. preaching wherever they can find either a congregation or a pulpit at their disposal. Several of them, such as, for instance Lord Radstock. have incurred the wrath of foreign Governments in consequence of their religious zeal. The young earl Bcauchamp is anoth- er of these lay preachers, but he mn- fines his ministrations to the East End of London: Then there is Lord Ben- net, married to an American wife, and heir to the Earl of Tankcrville. who has been arrested for street. preaching on several Occasions. The present Duke of Hamilton does a little in the preaching linc, chiefly! among the poorer classes in London. But none of these pech comes anywhere near the late Earl of Shaflcsbury so far as pulpit oratory is concerned. the Earl being known by the nickname of “the lay Bishop." -â€"-â€"-.â€"â€"â€"â€"-na SHAPELY HANDS. A story from across the water tells us that the German Emperor fell in love with his wife because of her beau- tiful hands. This sounds well, and, whether it is true or not, will no doubt be an inspiration to lots of am- bitious women to make the most of shapely hands. Very few women know what really pretty bands they possess. h‘irts, be- cause they know not how to care for them; second, for the reason that they think they have not hands of very much consequence. and third, from care- lessness in the use of hand coverings. A critic says: “Women become more sensible every day in regard to their ’hands. Young women used to squeeze land pinch their hands into gloves two Sizes too small. but now there isa rev- gloves olution. They wear gauntlet that and actually put on gloves wrinkle." There are many good arguments to .be brought forward anan the retire- imcnt of the tight glove. \Vomun who lplay tennis, row boats, drive road wag- :gons. swim or whccl. can never return ; toa syswm of packing the hand and livrist intoa small space. The old-fash- lioncd glove was an abomination. it ‘made the hand red. shiny. greasy and Iawkward in movement. It serious! Iaffcctcd the nerves. .lt took away la 1 ,cxprcsuion from the fingers and wrist -and also minimized the usefulness of one of. the most delicate incmlmrs of the human body. 3 But the tight. glove has gone and its xfuneral caused few tears to flow. Now 5 that we havculargc, generous, shapely §glovc decreed by fashion. we can afford lto spcnd more time training the hand land wrist. This training should begin iwith the infant. A child should never be allowed to sit with its finch in its imouth. Suuh a bad habit ruins the shape of both the fingers and the mouth. Children should not be ullowcll to stretch, pound or move their fingers or joints out of shape. The habit of "cinching the joints" is vary bud. and disfigurcs a hand for lifc. Having brought the little «ll-ughlcr Up to keep the hands iicflt. soft and white. she should be kept. from scrup- iug the nail wiih aposkt-t knife or a pair of azizesors, from using acid-s on the nails and from lilting lili‘lfl. All these. I things tend to detract from the natural beauty of the hands. Castilc soap is about the best in the market for washing the brands and wridsmn'! but. wry little of this is nrcll- ml in warm water. Do not rub the hands vigorously. It irrilalcs thc skin and accoiiipliahus very littli- good. The lidmrtisis hive some pretty exorcism which are very good for bringing the lid-id into the Innis and erali. Mass- nm is ;:l~'o excellent. for strengthening tile liganu-nts and tissues. FA] it l.\' lilCA'I'iUN. Does Miss (iiisb‘nmtn'a father lull: \vi' li favor on your but! 1 think 2w; he always lets me pay my the drinks. After this is com-9 w l M... me ow...“ . L s. .. . was -m...‘ "Jaw. .. “1? “. ....._.,_,_,_.A .. i . «,1 l (