I Aunt Diana :
The Sunshine
of the Family
CHAPTER V. (Continued.)
"Papa, dear, you will not go into tfie
itudy to-night," observed Mabel, in a
coaxing tone, as Mr. Merle looked at the
door, as though he intended to follow
Poppie's example; "please come with us
Into the drawing room, and I will make
you so comfortable."
"Very well," was his good-humored an
rwer, as he got np a little wearily from
his chair.
Alison waited a moment before she fol
lowed them.
"Are you not coming, too?" she asked,
as Roger threw himself down on an easy
chair.
Roger shook his head smilingly.
"Rudel has got to do his lessons. Mis
sis never admits him into the drawing
room of an evening. She says It is not
the room for boys. I generally keep
Rudel company or go out and amuse my
self." "F.ut not to-night, dear," she returned,
gently, and he got up at once.
Rudel looked up rather wistfully.
"I have almost a mind to come, too,"
he muttered, but as Roger said, hastily,
"Better lioi. Rue, e doii't want any row3
to-night, Alison is tired," he remained.
Alison threw a critical glance around
the room as she entered it. No changes
had been effected since she had last en
tered it.
Miss Leigh sat bolt upright by the big
round table, with her work-banket and a
pile of the boys' socks. Mr. Merle had a
little table and a reading lamp to him
self, and Missie sat on a stool at his feet
with a novel on her lap. Alison guessed
at once that this was their ordinary po
sition. "Oh. is that you, Roger? Tou don't
often honor us with your company of an
evening," observed Missie, with a toss of
her pretty head. "This is a compliment
1o you, Alison, I suppose?'
"We ought to put our books away to
night," said Mr. Merle, rousing himself
reluctantly, and making Alison feel as if
he wore treating her like a visitor.
""Mabel, my dear, suppose you give us one
of your little songs?"
"No, indeed, papa," returned Alison,
eagerly, "I hope you will go on just the
same as though 1 were not here. Of
course I should like to hear Mabel sing,
tut not if it disturbs you."
"Oh, I always sing to papa of an even
ing," replied Missie, walking to the piano
with much dignity. "Roger, I think you
might offer to light those candles for me,
hut you boys have no Idea of waiting
upon ladies. Tou will find them dread
fully rough, Alison." ,
"On the contrary, I am rather fond of
waiting irpon ladies," was Roger's non
chalant answer, laying a peculiar stress
on the last word that brought an angry
flush to Missie's face, "I always wait
on you, do I not. Miss Leigh?"
"Yes, indeed, Mr. Roger, I always say
you are no kind and thoughtful."
Missie struck a chord sharply. "If yon
will be good enough to leave off talking
I will commence my song," she said, cross
ly, and as Roger made a low bow and
retired she began the prelude of a Ger
man song.
Alison listened with much pleasure.
Among her other natural gifts, Missie
certainly possessed a very good voice, and
it had been evidently well trained. Her
notes were clear and sweet, and if she
could only have got rid of a certain af
fectation in her style, Alison could have
praised her still more warmly.
As It was, her admiration was so sin
cere that Missie began to thaw for the
first time.. "I suppose you sing?" she
aid, a little bluntly.
"Not much. I certainly can not com
pare my voice to yours." was the modst
reply, "but I am fond of instrumental
music, and play a good deal.'
"Then you will be able to play my ac
eompaniments," returned Mabel, bright
ening si ill more. "Will you take my
place, Alison? Papa will like to hear
yon. I am sure."
"Not to-night,' returned Alison, feeling
s though she were not capable of any
further effort. "I am ratJier tired, and
if papa would excuse me I think I should
like to go to bed."
"By nil means, my love," observed Mr.
Merle, looking up from his book, "Pus
ie, dear, I hope everything is comfort
able for your sister. Never mind singing
to me to-night, if there is anything you
in do to help Alison."
"I will come with you and see," return
ed Missie, a little ungraciously, and
though Alison would rather have dispens
ed with her company, she thought it bet
ter policy to accept this faint offer of
help. On the landing Missie stopped, and
said, rather awkkardly, "I hope you don't
mind about the change of rooms, Alison,
but as you do not live at home, I thought
1 could please myself."
"I suppose I have come home to live
now," returned her sister, wearily; "but
if you do not want to give it up, Mabel,
I will try to be content with my present
one; I only want things to be comforta
ble, and to do my best for you all."
"Ob, as to that, we have got along
very well," returned Mabel, hastily ; "you
need not put yourself out on our account.
As papa says, I am grown up now near
ly seventeen and able to take care of my
self and other people, too. I hope you
are not going in to set Popple ; I think It
is a pity waking up the child, and she Is
so excitable."
"I shall not wake her, but I promised
to ga tad M her," returned Alison, with
gentle firmness, as she bade Missie good
night. , Misiie need not have troubled her
self about her little sister's wakefulness.
Poppie was sitting bolt upright In the
darkness, waiting for Alison.
"Now for a good cuddle and a talk,"
she said, stretching out her arms to Ali
son ; "you are a nice old thing to keep
your promise." And as Alison sat down
on the little bed she forgot her weariness,
as Poppie laid her warm cheek against
berg, and called her dear, nice Allie,
CHAPTER VI.
Alison was too tired to lie awake a
moment after her head touched the pillow,
and she woke so late the next morning
that breakfast was already over, and Miss
Leigh sent up a message by Poppie, beg
ging her to lie still and rest herself, as
her father and Roger had already gone to
the mill, and she would send her up soirfe
breakfast.
"Aunt Diana would call this a bad be
ginning," thought Alison. Nevertheless,
as her bead still ached, she yielded to the
temptation. The sun was shining into
her room, making her feel hot and rest
less, and she begged Poppie to lower the
blind, so that the huge crane might not
fret her eyes by Its hideous unsightliness.
If she could only have shut out, too, its
Incessant whir and grind ! But that was
impossible. As she drank her tea she
looked round the shabby room with a
strange sinking of heart and spirits. "I
must wake up every morning to this," she
thought, "unless I make an enemy of
Missie from the beginning by forcing her
to resign my room. Will it not be bet
ter to endure any amount of discomfort
than to do that? I will ask Aunt I Hans
what I shall do about it. No. no." re
calling Lurt-eiT, "I uiu.sl ni t hij'X on my
own responsibility. Aunt Diana will think
me a poor, helpless sort of a thing if I
always want her as a moral crutch o
support me."
And with this wise resolution, Alison
dressed herself quickly and finished her
unpacking, after which she ensconced her
self in the deserted dining room and wrote
her first letter to Moss-side.
A sweet, brave little letter it was. Ali
son touched very little on her own feel
ings; she did not even speak of her
changed room. Somehow, she had a no
tion that it would vex Aunt Diana. She
talked of Roger's warm welcome and Miss
Leigh's kindness, and tried to make Aunt
Di interested in Rudel's and Poppie's
droll ways. Missie she barely mentioned,
except to say how pretty she had grown
and how nicely Bhe sung, and then went
on to speak of her father's changed looks.
A great many loving messages, a few
longing expressions for Aunt Di herself,
completed the letter.
The early luncheon hour brought all the
family together, but Alison's sense of or
derliness and propriety was shocked by
Rudel's rough appearance. He came in
straight from school with unbrushed hair
and unwashed hands, and sat down at the
table, until Missie's loudly uttered in
junctions, and at last his father's curt
command to make himself presentable be
fore he ate his dinner, obliged him to
leave the room grumbling; and his return
a few minutes later led to a most undig
nified scene of recrimination between him
and Missie," carried on below their breaths
with the utmost bitterness, with Poppie
listening with both her ears, In spite of
Miss Leigh's gentle reminders to go on
with her dinner.
Rut this was not the only source of
discomfort to Alison ; her father was evi
dently in one of his gloomiest humors ;
something had evidently gone wrong at
the mills, and, as usual, Roger was bear
ing the brunt of the annoyance. Alison's
heart was full of pity as she heard the
angry words that were launched at his
unlucky head; lu her own mind she was
secretly marveling at Roger's patience.
Alison who was on the verge of tears
with suppressed pity, and longing to speak
a word in his defense was moved almost
to anger by the unconcern on Missie's
face. Evidently she was too used to hear
Roger found fault with on every occa
sion to take any notice of it. She had
finished her contest with Rudel, and now
sat with her usual self-satisfied look,
playing with her rings and humming a
little French air to herself.
"Papa, dear," she said, at Inst, placid
ly, "do let those stupid sawmills alone ;
you are only exciting yourself and mak
ing yourself ill. Come out into the gar
den with me and Poppie; it is bo cool
and shady there." And as Mr. Merle
did not at once answer this appeal, she
came round to him and touched his arm.
"Come, papa," she repeated still more
placidly ; "you have scolded Roger enough,
and it only puts you out. Come with
me; I want you." And actually Mr.
Merle suffered himself to be coaxed out
of the room ; and in another minute Ali
son saw them sitting together under the
lime trees, with Poppie playing on the
lawn.
Alison turned round to seek Roger,
but he bad left the room, and Rudel bad
followed him; Only Miss Leigh was lock
ing up the cellarette, and jingling her key
basket.
"What does this mean?" faltered Ali
son. "Why does papa speak to Roger in
this way? It is not right, is it?"
"Come with me into the school room,"
was Miss Leigh's sensible answer to this ;
"as Sarah will be In directly to clear tbe
luncheon, and we can not talk before her.
I must speak to you, Alison ; I must In
deed." And leading the way to the old
room Alison remembered so well, she clos
ed the door in her quick, nervous fashion,
and begged Alison to take the only easy
chair that the room boasted. "No, indeed,"
returned Alison, quickly; "Poppie's lit
tle stool will do for me. What does it
matter where I sit, or whether one is
comfortable or not?" she continued, im
patiently, as Miss Leigh stood hesitating.
"Please rest yourself in that big chair,
for you look quite fagged and tired, and
I have had a nice rest."
"I think 1 am nearly always tired,"
returned Miss Leigh, plaintively. "Is it
not dreadful, Alison about poor Mr,
Roger, I mean? If it were not for my
poor blind mother, whom I pretty nearly
support out of my savings, I do not think
I could endure this much longer. My
deir," with the tears starting to her gen
tle eyes, "when one gets to my age one
values peace and kind words above every
thing, and that is just what one can not
get at The Holms."
"Do you mean that this sort of thing
goes ou daily?" exclaimed Alison, turning
her flushed face to the governess. "Do
you mean," bringing out her words with
difficulty, "that papa often gives Roger
all this to bear?"
"Well, my dear, one must not exag
gerate. Things are not always going
wrong at the mills, of course ; and some
times we can eat our meals in peace;
but your poor dear father- one hardly
likes to blame him to his own child
is very often hard on Mr. Roger. It
seems to me as though nothing Mr. Roger
can do pleases your father, and as if
Mabel can do no wrong in his eyes. You
can see for yourself, Alison, the influ
ence she has over him."
"Yes, I see ; but I can not understand
It. When I was last at borne Missie
pwas only a child, and yet, though she is
not seventeen, and ought to be in the
school room and under your care, she
seems completely mistress."
"She is never in the school room now,"
returned Miss Ijeigh, leaning back wear
ily in the armchair, "Sometimes she
comes in to interfere with Poppie and find
fault with some of my arrangements. But
she has coaxed your father into giving
her French and singing lessons with her
friends, the Hardwicks, nnd for months
she has refused to open even a history ;
and yet you have no idea how ignorant
she is. N'n'll'nj hnt miueMef linn rexulf
ed from her intimacy with Fva Hard
wick. I have spoken to your father over
and over again about it. but he listens to
Mabel's version of her friend's character,
and only the other day he told me I must
be mistaken, for Eva was a bright, high
spirited girl, and it was all nonsense what
Mr. Roger and I said almut her."
"Roger dislikes her, then?"
"Oh, yes; he never speaks to her if
he can help it. She is a fine-looking girl;
older than Mabel, but vain and empty
headed, thinking of nothing but balls and
flirtations; and you know how dangerous
a friend of that sort is to a girl of Ma
bel's age. To do Mabel justice, she was
not half so vain and fond of dress and
finery until she went so much to the
Hardwicks. They have completely turn
ed her head, and, worst of all, Eva has
taken a dislike to Roger because he re
fuses to pay her any attention and laughs
at all their nonsense; and that sets Ma
bel against her brother. Mabel always
had a temper of her own," went on Miss
Leigh, feeling a sort of relief in pouring
out her feelings into Alison's ear, "but
she was never so aggravating as she is
now. You see, my dear, if a girl does not
hold her own home as sacred, if she
chooses a giddy young companion for her
confidante, and ritnils to her all that
passes in her own household, finding fault
with her own people, and listening to her
friend's estimate of them, she may end
as Mabel does, in thinking her brothers
rough and unmannerly, and Poppie a dis
agreeable little girl."
"Do you mean Missie is so dishonora
ble as to repeat to Miss Hardwick all
that passes at The Holms?" asked Ali
son, indignantly.
"They do not think It dishonorable,"
returned Miss Iigh, with a quiet good
sense which Alison had never credited
her. "You see, Mabel calls Eva her
bosom friend, and refuses to have any
secrets from her. If Eva comes this af
ternoon, all that passed at the luncheon
table between your father and Mr. Roger
will be retailed, as a matter of course.
"Even if Mabel were disposed to be
reticent for once, Eva, who is of an in
quisitive nature, and who completely
dominates her, would soon worm the
whole thing from her. She has a grudge
agaiust Mr. Roger, and nothing would
please her more than to hear of this hu
miliation. I have reason to know, Ali
son, that it is by Eva's advice that Mabel
Intends to keep your room. I have heard
her say myself that, of course, as your
home is with Miss (.'arriugton, you have
resigned your privilege, here as the eldest
daughter, and that there is no need for
Mabel to knock under completely. Those
were her very words." i
Alison looked grave. "Is Miss Hard
wick often here?" she asked at last.
"They arc together) every day, either
here or at Ilroadlands the Hardwicks'
bouse. But as your father objects to
strnngers, or, indeed, to visitors of any
kind, Eva very rarely spends the evenings
here. They were practicing In the draw
ing room this morning, nnd afterward
they went out together. " There is anoth
er Bister, Anna, a nice little thing, rather
pale and delicate looking, but they both
snub her. I suppose that makes Mr. Rog
er kind to her when she comes, for her
sister certainly slights her, and Mr. Roger
always stands up for every one. but him
self." "It seems odd, my saying all this to
you, Alison," observed Miss Leigh, after
a pause; "for you are' young yourself;
but you were never flighty and easily
led, as Mabel is. I believe she has her
good points; she is really verymuch at
tached to your father, and will leave Eva
sometimes, if he wants her; and in her
own Way she is fond of Poppie, though
she tyrannizes over her. There ! Poppie
is crying as usual ; that is generally the
end when she is long with Mabel. I sup
pose, by that, your father has gone back
to the mill. I had better go to her, Ali
son, if you will excuse me."
Alison hod plenty of food for medita
tion when she was left alone ; a very
difficult problem was before her to solve.
How was she to gain an Influence over
her faulty young sister?
(To be continued.)
The deepening and lengthening of
the Annlsquaiu River have made u
Island out of Cape Cod.
HI
i i
Baked Bananas,
The skin contains considerable pec
tine, which Is well to h;ve, so one nmy
clean the fruit and ouly strip off one
third of the .skin of eitch banmin, and
with a spoon loosen the remnlndcr
from the fruit. Arrange five or six
In n baking pun, the stripped side up
permost. On each lny one-half of n
tenspoonful of butter in hits, Bprlnkle
with one tenspoonful of lemon Juice.
Bake for twenty minutes In a good
oven. Serve with a chocolate sauce or
any desired.
Cheese Fonda.
Put Into a double boiler a table
spoonful of butter, a cupful of milk, a
scant- cupful of fresh, soft bread
crumbs nnd two cupfuls of cheese,
grnted. Cover nnd cook uirtll nil Ingre
dients are blended nnd creamy. Add
two eggs, whipped light, and stir until
the mixture thickens; put In n pinch of
cayenne nnd a tenspoonful of salt and
serve on toast or crackers.
Grnhuin Bread.
Set n sponge ns for white bread. Let
it stand in a warm place ail uiglil, and
in the morning work Into it enouirh
graham flour to make a good dough and
add to It three scant tnblespoonfuls of
liiolusses. Knead thoroughly nnd make
Into loaves. Put Into greased pans and
set to rise until light, then bake In a
steady oven.
Molalities Cookies.
One large cup of butter and lard
mixed, one cup of sugar, two-thirds of
a cup of molasses, one-half cup of hot
water In which one level teaspoonful
of soda has been dissolved, one tea
spoonful each of cinnamon, ginger and
cloves, flour for a stiff dough. Roll
out, cut Into shapes and bake quickly.
A Dnlnfy Breakfast Dish.
Toast your bread light brown, butter
and salt. Beat the white of egg stiff
and pile ou the toast, scooping out a
little round center; into this drop tho
whole yolk. Set In the oven and brown
again. Put bits of butter and salt and
pepper on the egg and serve on Individ
ual plates.
Canned Tomatoes, Not Boiled.
Peel ripe tomatoes and put In clean
Jars. Pour boiling hot water in jars,
tmt tops on, set in boiling water so
they are all covered and let stand until
cold. See that tops are nil on tightly
and that rubbers arc good. Keep In
dark place. Be sure to use sound to.
ma toes.
Qnlnee Honey.
Four lnrge quinces, grated ; thret,
pounds of granulated sugar, one pint
of water, alum the size of a pea; put
the wnter, sugar nnd alnn in a kettle,
boll and skim; put in the quinces and
boll for ten minutes, then turn Into
Jars nnd seal.
Steak Stew.
One round steak, cut Into pieces ot
the desired size, then fried In drip
pings. When well browned sprinkle
with salt, cover with hot water nnd
simmer gently for one mid one-half
hourr. Thicken the gravy and serve.
French Salad l)resln.
Three tablespoons of olive oil, one
tablespoon vinegar. Mix salt, red pop
per, a little mustard and a trifle of
sugar, stir smooth with oil. To theso
ingredients add the oil and vinegar.
Itye and Indlaa 1'nncakes.
One pint milk, one teaspoon soda,
two eggs, a little salt; mix linn enough
to cut off with a spoon lu boiling lard
with half rye and half Indian meal;
molasses to sweeten.
Soap Meu Bulls.
Put cooked soup meat, cold holloa
potatoes and onions In the food chop
per, add popper and salt to taste, form
Into balls, pi-ess Hat nnd fry brown.
Short SuBKestlons.
To cover the pan in which fish Is
cooked will make the flesh soft.
Honey should be kept In the dark. If
exposed to light It will quickly gruuu-
'ate.
If the wooden chopping bowl Is stood
upside down when not In use there will
be no danger of its splitting.
Wooden tubs are much used for
washing glass and delicate china, 03
there Is far less risk of breakage.
A pinch of borax stirred Into a quart
of milk will keep It sweet, If you ob
ject to the taste of It after boiling.
Raise some' okra In your garden.
Dried It keeps Indefinitely and Is the
best flavor soup and bouillons can have.
Lemons that have become hard from
long standing can be made usable by
covering them with boiling water for t
few tpiuutea
CRITICISES THE RAILWAYS.
The n. Patrick Uolnn ot Dahlia
Amazed at Their Recklea speed.
"In some respects the railroads In
this country are behind ours," said the
uev. Patrick Oulnn of Dublin. Ire and.
la the Baltimore American. "One thing
I have noticed that seems strange to
me Is the way the trains dash throueh
towns. I never saw anything like It
before, nnd I wonder people are not
killed every day. In Great Britain
there are Iron fences on each side of
the tracks through the cities and towns
and guards are constantly on the watch
to prevent people climbing over thera
or crawling underneath.
"In some places the authorities com
pel the railroad companies to put tun
nels under crossings, nnd thus elimi
nate nil danger. The trains here are
so dirty, too. Why, I wash my hands
thirty or forty times a day when I am
traveling. The noise from the ringing
of hells and the blowing of the whistles
Is almost enough to set one crazy.
There Is a perfect bedlam when a train
starts from a station ; a big hell clangs,
the engine starts pulling nnd snorting,
and all this. In addition to which shrill
whistling Is kept up for half an hour,
while the train tears Its way through
the city. The appointments nnd the
meals served I must say are pretty
good. Our trains make better time
than yours. You have nothing to equal
the express from Ixmdon to Glasgow
or the one between London and Liver
pool. "This rush and dash In which you
live all-the time Is enough to turn a
man's head. Chicago Is worse than nny
other city that I have visited In this
respect, and the people there are almost
criminals on tho subject of speed. They
tear around as if their time was worth
hundreds of dollars a minute. It re
quires courage to try to cross one of
the downtown streets. Automobiles.
cars and wagons of nil sorts tear up
i i j i . i ...
mm uuwu wun an nusniute disregard or
human life. Several persons were
knocked down and killed during the
few days I spent In the city, and I
breathed a sigh of relief when I got
away."
MOX)OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOC0000(
8 WORKED FOR HIS DOQ.
OOOOOO(X3O000000O0O0O(X)OOCn
Such friendship as a man feels for
his dog and the dog feels for his mas
ter Is a sentiment of a peculiarly pleas
ing nature, because the best that each
gets from the other is Just affection
and sympathy. Cases arise In which
the attention lends to willing sacrifices,
n one side or the other. An Instance
eoently noticed In the New York Times
Is that of a negro, Edward Grooms,
liul his dog.
Like most members of his race, Ed
ward, Grooms has a dog. Its breed and
ancestry are unrecorded, both probably
being dubious; but It Is doubtless an
amiable and estimable dog In Groom's
eyes, and the local tax collector held
the animal quite good enough to be
taxed.
Grooms appreciated the 'compliment,
but did not have the money to pay the
Impost. Things were moving toward
a tragical termination for the dog
when, from some source or other, camo
he suggestion that If Grooms would
serve ten days In the chain gang tho
tax would bo considered paid and the
dog eould live.
The master adopted the plan, and
saved the life of his dog by tolling for
ten hot, weary days ns a shackled
builder of roads. It was, without ques
tion, a fine thing to do, nnd the chains
that Grooms wore were no disgrace
were rather badges of honor In the eyes
of those who understood why he wore
them.
One man remarked that although
people now know that Edward Grooms
loved his dog, the dog knew It nil the
while, and would have done ns much or
more for him nny day that occasion or
opportunity nrose. That Is dog nature.
"Of all the beautiful things In this
world there Is nolle more beautiful than
love, and It Is not so common as to be
Is'iieath regard, even In the case of a
man and a dog."
Quick ChniiKe.
"Who," she asked, "Is that scrawny,
how-legged, ridiculous looking person
talking to Miss Rockingham?"
"That Ih Count Rrisczplcksnltzcl."
"Oh! What nu nrlstocrntlo, noble
bearing he seems to have now that ho
has shifted his position so that tho
light strikes hlin properly I" Chicago
Record-Herald.
The Conmllp.
"I snw a cowslip by the river's brim,"
said the long-haired boarder who had
Just returned from a stroll.
"I hope 'twnn't one of my cows," sntd
the practical farmer. "Did she slip
clear in?"
Look yourself over candidly and
honestly, and you will be surprised at
the great nmount of time you devot
to foolishness.
If a woman wants a welcome when,
she gets home, she should leave her
husband with the baby when she gout