What Gold
Cannot
Buy
ii y
Hy MUS. A.LEjr.KffTJE'R
Author of "A Crooked Path." "Maid. Wifo or Widow." "By
Woman' Wit." "Baaten'a Bargain." "A Lifa Inter eat."
"Mona'a Choloa." "A Woman's Haart."
CHAPTER VI. (Continued.)
Miss Desmond had been little more
than a week at Inklefleld, when, re
turning home from the neighboring
vicarage, whence she had been dls
patched with a message respecting
some of the local charities to which
Mrs. Saville contributed, she entered
the drawing-room through one of the
French windows which opened on a
veranda and thence on to the grounds
The lady of the house was not there,
but lounging comfortably In her espe
cial chair sat a gentleman, who, di
rectly Miss Desmond entered, rose and
made her a bow a bow which proved
that bowing was not yet quite a lost
ert. H w ft tail aldarly man of un
certain age, slight and elegant, with
fine aquiline features and light-blue
laughing eyes that looked as If boy
hood still lingered there in spite of the
wavy hair that curled round a rathei
low but well-shaped forehead. He was
carefulfy, admirably dressed, and inde
cribably fresh and cool, though it was
burning August day.
"Allow me to explain my appearance
here," he said. In a pleasant, youthful
voice. "I have taken the exceedingly
uninteresting Journey from London to
this place, and I now await its amia
ble mistress's pleasure as to whether
he will see me or not."
"Has she been told you are here?",
asked Miss Desmond, taking off a large
garden-hat, which she" continued to
hold In her hand, wondering who this
could be. Mrs. Savllle's visitors had
hitherto been few and far between, her
Acquaintances' at that season being
cattered In remote regions.
"Yes, I believe her major-domo has
conveyed my pasteboard to the august
presence." And the stranger, with the
air of beln" very much at home, drew
forward a chair, which Miss Desmond
did not accept.
"Pray, has Mrs. Saville been long
fcere?" '
"About a fortnight."
"And you have you been here all
hat time?"
"Not quite."
"Ah! what wonderful resisting pow
er! I should have Imagined you would
oth by this time be extinct from men
ial Inanition." Miss Desmond laughed
a sweet, well-amused laugh.
"And you can laugh like that!" he
continued. "Then your vitality has ol
course kept my revered sister-in-law
mllve. It must, however, exhaust your
own vital powers to give out ozone
no, what do they call k? electricity
to such a degree. There Is nothing to
me so soul-destroying, so deadening, as
suburban rusticity. Won't' you sit
down? I can't 'stand any longer my
elf."
"Then pray do not. I do not alt
down because I am not going to stay.
I thought Mrs. Saville would come In
Immediately," said Miss Desmond, who
began to perceive In some way that
this pleasant, talkative personage was
good deal older than he seemed.
"Since you permit it, then." And he
ank into his chair with a sigh of re
lief. "You see," he went on, "this sort
of place is Just far enough from Lon
don to cut you off from all the con
veniences of town life, and too npar
for any of the legitimate amusements
nd occupations of the country."
Here the butler appeared, and said.
"Mrs. Saville will see you, my lord, if
you will come this way." The gentle
man rose, and made another elegant
bow as he passed Miss Desmond.
"What an amusing person! I won
der who he is. Some relation, 1 sup
pose, or he would not speak so freely,'
thought Miss Desmond. "I must not
go to Mrs. Saville, at present." She
too left the room by a different exit
and ascended to her own pleasant
apartment, which looked out ' to the
front; a dressing-closet opened from
It, and, except for the bed, it was fur
nished like a sitting-room. After lean
ing from the window for some. - min
tites, apparently In deep thought, she
went to her writing table, and, un
locking a desk with a key which hung
to her chain, she began to add some
lines to a' closely-written letter which
lay therein.
She had written for a -considerable
time when the sound of wheels and
liorses feet drew her to the window,
from whence Bhe saw the gentleman
with whom she had spoken . In the
drawing-room descend the hall door
teps to enter a very rusty fly or sta
tion cab. He had a comically rueful
expression of countenance, and, look
Ing round over the front of the house,
his quick eye caught sight of Miss Des
mond. To her annoyance, he lifted his
hat and gave a slight expressive shrug
before stepping Into his cab, which
drove off immediately.
"I wish I had not looked out," she
thought; then, smiling at the Idea, it
struck her very like an "expulsion.''
"No doubt Mrs. Saville could be very
severe even cruel; but she Is good to
me. I had better give her the -vicar's
message; yet I feel half afraid. This
ill not do. My best, my only chance
Is fearlessness." " -
She paused a moment, then locked
away her writing again, and proceeded
doTT ft J?.a?ft f"d 9 afcnrt atfllr
to the wing in which was Mrs. Sa
vllle's boudoir.
She knocked at the door, and was
imperatively told to come in. Mrs.
Saville was-walking up and down, evi
dently much disturbed.
"I beg your pardon," hesitatingly.
"Oh, come in, come In! I have been
worried by an importunate fool; but I
am not so overset that I cannot attend
to anything else. Did you see the
vicar?"
"I did; and he is very sorry, but he
has already returned the plans of the
cottages to the builder."
"Then he must get them back," very
sharply. "I will walk over myself to
the vicarage. I want movement. Did
you happen to see Lord Everton?"
"The gentleman who has Just left?
Yes; he was in the drawing-room
when I came in."
"He is one of the most contemptible
men in England," continued Mrs. Sa
ville "a mere butterfly at sixty-three.
He has only existed for pleasure his
whole life, and even now pleasure still
pleases. His sense of enjoyment has
been his ruin. A trlfler of the most
trifling description, without an ambi
tion or an aim; worst of all, reckless
of how he may throw others Into temp
tation or difficulty. He has injured
me past forgiveness, and yet he comes
meandering here to try and talk me
over to induce me to pardon the cruel
lest injury that could be inflicted. I
told him my opinion fully; but to be
seriously angry with such a creature
is like taking a howitzer to-shoot a
humming-bird. Come, Miss Desmond
let us go out Into the open air. What
o'clock is it? Nearly five?" I shall
walk round the grounds until it is
time to And the vicar."
They paced somewhat slowly across
the grounds to a wooded rising ground
on the left of the house, from which a
view of it and its surroundings could
be obtained,' and- when they had ac
complished the ascent Mrs. Saville sat
down, as if tired, on a seat placed at
the best point of outlook. Her com
panion had observed that the keen,
active woman was stronger in spirit
than in flesh, and felt a sort of pity
for this rich, prosperous, resolute lady.
"What a sweet, beautiful place this
Is! she exclaimed, after gazing at
the 6cene before her for a few min
utes. "I think it is the most charming
I have ever seen."
"Then you have not seen much," re
turned Mrs. Savjlle, testily.
"That is true. I have not seen any
fine places in England, and the palaces
and chateaux abroad are feo melan
choly; but who could desire anything
beyoiid the exquisite, graceful, home
line beauty of Inglefleld?"
It was, in truth, a delightful abode,
sheltered on the east by the upland
from which they now looked down;
the ground sloped steeply from the
opposite side, giving a wide view over
a richly-wooded country; while the
house, gardens a'nd grounds occupied
the level space between. Fine trees
stood about, for Inglefleld was an old
country-house dating tolerably far
back, built In the half-timbered style,
the first story of line bricks, the upper
part beams and plaster, with high
chimneys and many-gabled roofs. The
large additions made by Mrs. Savllle's
father had been carried out in strict
accordance with the original plan, and
the garden designed to suit it also. A
circular lawn, surrounded with flower
ing shrubs and dotted with several
large spreading trees, separated the
house from a wide avenue which open
ed exactly opposite the entrance, over
arched by a double row of great old
elms at either aide. Beyond, on tha
left, from a wooded hollow, through
which a trout-stream had been widen
ed and dammed Into a miniature lake,
glimpses of which could be caught
j
wnen tne sunlight fell upon It, rot tnt
smoke from some unseen chimney.
"Home-like," repeated Mrs. Saville.
"There is an Immense amount of non
sense talked about home. I wish you
could see Klngswood, Lord Everton'i
place; it is one of the finest seats In
England full of family treasures and
historic relics and he would not make
the faintest effort to retain it He
might have entered diplomacy or
taken a foreign appointment and saved
money. But he Is quite content to de
rive his Income from the rent a Man
chester millionaire pays him for his
ancestral halls, when he might have
married the millionaire's daughter
and kept it for himself."
"Well, if the daughter was not the
sort of woman he could love, he wai
right," said Miss Desmond, thought
fully. "Suppose she was not compan
ionable, that he could not love her;
the finest place In the world could not
make up for that."
"You are a foolish child! The thing
called love soon evaporates. Rank, im
portance, high position, last; and du
ties due to one's station fill - up life
satisfactorily. It, is a lowf mean con
ception of existence to spend It la per
sonal pleasure."
"Yea, certainly. You are right," ea
gerly. "To live for one's self alone,
in any way, is miserable. But one has
a right to try and be happy if it does
not Interfere with the happiness of
others."
"You have been tolerably poor, from
what you say," said Mrs. 8aville, not
uukiuuiy. "Have you been happy ?"
Her Interlocutor paused before she
replied, "Yes, on the whole I have been
happy. Sometimes it has been trying
to feel shabby and to be unable to get
a new dress, to know that lovely pic
tures and delightful music were with
in your reach, yet Inaccessible. The
worst is to want nice delicate things
for some one you love and not to be
able to get them; that is bitter. Still,
nothing can be so poverty-stricken as
to have no one to trouble about, no
one to love or live for, no one to love
you."
11 is, men, very unfortunate for a
person of your disposition to have lost
your home," remarked Mrs. Saville,
coldly.
"It is sad enough; but I have been
fortunate in finding friends like Mr.
Rawson and his daughter. It Is bet
ter, too, to believe that there Is some a cream of potatoes, shortening, su-
pleasant sheltered nook round the next Sar and nutmeg for flavor. Then sift
turn of the road than always to look . about four cups of flour with the bak
for sandy deserts. Loneliness Is the lnS powder; add to the mixture as
worst evil of all: it is what I fear much flour as needed.
most."
Preaervlnn- lllnta.
The first consideration is a preserv
lng kettle of brass polished until lus
trous and with no stain of fruit.
This is the sort of vessel used by
the old-fashioned housewife and th
Jellies of our grandmothers have never
been equaled.
Porcelain kettles should be dis
carded as soon as they commence to
track 'and tin, iron or pewter should
never be used.
' The best Jelly bag la -a long on
made of flannel, which is made in a
point at the bottom.
This should never be squeezed In
order to hasten the dropping or a
discoloration of the fruit will result
In selecting fruit the greatest care
should be taken to see that it is not
overripe.
Berries that have been picked more
than 24 hours are too old to make
good Jelly and preserves.
A cheesecloth bag will be found
useful In straining the fruit through
tho colander.
Prone Jell?.
Stew a quart of prunes In a quari
of water until they full to pieces.
Press through a colander. Soak a box
of gelatin in a cupful of cold water;
pour on gradually a cupful of boiling
water and Btlr until thoroughly dis
solved. Add one pint of the prune
pulp, the Juioe of a lemon-or orange
and a little sugar. Strain into wet
mold. Put In cool place. Turn out
and serve with whipped cream.
Good Dongrhnnta.
Two cups of hot mashed potatoes
our tablespoons of shortening, three
cups of sugar, four eggs, three cups
milk, five teaspoons of baking powder
and flour, enough to make the usual
consistency of doughnut dough. Make
SIZE OF HER SHOES.
Tho Dealera lae Cipher Sretem ot
' .umUrra for Manx Keaaona.
What number does Bhe wear? asks
the Kansas City Star. It should be
a surprise to a few men, at least, to
know that she no longer wears shoe
of numbered sizes'. The old 1, 2, 3,
way of numbering women's shoes has
seen its day; now sizes are no longer
designated by numbers, at least not in
the places where she buys shoes that
cost as if they were made of gold and
a precious stone or two. There are
marks and numbers that tell the story
of length and breadth to the clerk,
but they mean nothing to the cus
tomer. Who would guess that K17368
means 4 3-4 D? Only the shoe clerk,
and he tells no one.
Therein Is the purpose of the ab
sence of numbers on women's shoes.
'lI always wear a 3 B." she would
say, and the clerk would see the num
ber 4Vi D foot resting in the little
fitting stand. Without comment, he
would bring shoes to fit snugly and
not with too great discomfort.
'That's very pretty. I think I'll
take those," and he would begin to
hope a sale had been made. Now, it
be could only get them Into a box with
out 'I want to look at them again. Just
a moment, please. Why, you said these
were 8s and they are 5s! Why, I
never in all my days wore anything
bigger than 8s! No, indeed! I shan't
be Imposed upon, I assure you. I
care to see no other shoca. I shall go
somewhere where I can be given prop
er treatment." And a sale lost be
cause the clerk could not hide the true
facts about the proper size of shoes
for her to wear. N
So a few years ago the manufac
turers and the merchants resorted to
cipher in designating shoes, and a
"number" nowadays reads like a foot
ball signal. Some women have even
penetrated the cipher, and, consequent
ly, some shops request that nothing be
said about numbers the salesman will
measure the foot and bring a shoe to
correspond. That is he'll bring th
first too large, In order to let the fal
buyer have the satisfaction of asking
for something smaller.
Meanwhile the men's shoes still hav
sizes marked in plain numbers and la
plain sight.
WHERE WRITING IS SACRED.
Mrs. Saville did not answer imme
diately; then she said, abruptly,
"What Is your name your Christian
name?"
"My name? Hope Desmond " ..
"I thought so. It is very appro
priate. You have given me a curious
mental picture. I suppose It is true,
though it is incomprehensible to me,
but you give me the idea of being sen
sible and accurate. Do you not feel
that your life has been lost, fruitless,
passed as it has been in this constant
struggle?"
wo, cnea Hope, ner dark eyes
Old-Faanloned Drop Cakea.
Cream a scant cup of sugar with one
half cup of shortening, add a cup of
molasses, one-half teaspoonful of pow
dered cloves and cinnamon, mixed, one
teaspoonful of salt and two level tea
spoonfuls of baking soda dissolved in
one cup of cold water. Add enough
flour to make a quite thick batter and
drop this from a spoon into a greased
nan. Bake in a quick oven.
Canning Sweet Corn.
For canning, cut the same as for dry
ing. To thirteen pints of corn add one
lighting, and lifting her head with an j Dmt of 8alt and 0n8 Pln 8Usar In
unconscious but dignified movement granite pan and stir till It forms its
"It has had much sweetness, and r!ownJulce- Set on back of stove, where
have been of some use. Though I am " w111 heat an(1 stav no' 'or an nour
not clever, I have done what I could; or more, then draw to front of stove
and that will always comfort me. I do 11,1 11 comes to a boll and can. For
riot fear the future. Work will come canning or drying always use corn
to me. I would not chance with anv i rather too soft than too hard.
one. I prefer to remain the 'me' that
I am."
"You are an unusual specimen, Miss
Desmond, and really a profound phi-
Dellclona Broiled Steak.
Sprinkle the bottom of a skillet quite
generously with salt. Place on the
losopher; yet you have refinement andJ(flr an1 let " become quite hot. Now
taste, aye, and culture enough, to ena- Pu' ,n yur steak, turning frequently,
ble you to enjoy beauty and elegance, i 80 as retain the Juice. When done
literature and art. I congratulate you:
only, if every one was as easily pleas
ed the world would stand still."
"Perhaps so," said Hope Desmond,
with a sigh. "I can only see life ac
cording to my lights."
Then, after some minutes' silence
place on a heated platter and season
with pepper; also, add small bits ot
butter. This makes any steak quite
tender and insures a rich flavor. -
Rocheater Glnarerbrend.
Beat half a cup of butter to a cream;
the observed how prettily the smoke . gradually beat in half a cup of sugar,
curled up from among the trees down !
In the hollow.
"Yes." said Mrs. Saville, "I suppose
Lord Castlelo i has arrived. Inglefleld
Court belongs to him. It Is an older
and much damper place than thla I
must call to-morrow." She heaved a
deep sigh as she spoke. "Miss Dacre
Is one of the fortunate ones according
to iny estimate. She Is her father's
sole heiress, and takes the title, too,
when she succeeds him. She Is pretty,
rather accomplished, and decidedly
popular. I used to see a good deal of
her at one time; now " She paus
ed aiid frowned, then, rising, she said,
peremptorily, "Come, I feel rheumat
ic; I have sat here too long." .
Few words passed between the com
panions till almost at the gate which
opened from Mrs. Savllle's grounds on
a foot-path which crossed the vicarage
fields, when that lady said, suddenly:
"t expect my son to-morrow."
"Your eldest son?"
"1 have but one son," returned Mrs,
Saville, icily.
(To bf continued.)
Haatr Marrlas-e.
Clerk at Marriage License Bureau
What's the lady's first name?
Prospective Bridegroom Heavensl
I never thought to ask hr.
two well-beaten eggs, one cup of mo
lasses, one cup of thick, sour milk and
three cups of flour, sifted with one tea
spoonful and a half of soda, one tea
spoonful of ginger and one teaspoonful
of cinnamon. Bake in two brick-loaf
pan.
.Green Tomato Pie.
Line a plate with nice crust, All with
peeled and. sliced green tomatoes, add
half a cup of sugar, one tablespoonful
of butter cut Into bits, four tablespooni
of vinegar and sprinkle with cinnamon
or nutmeg. Cover with a top crust
and bake slowly.
Cora and Sweet Potatoea.
. Cut the kernels from six ears of boil
ed corn. Cut into dice four large boiled
sweet potatoes. Melt a tablespoonful
of butter in a frying pan and stir
Into this the corn and sweet potatoes.
Fry, etirrln,? often, for ten minutes,
then serve.
The, Chinese point of view is often
surprising to the Western mind, and
therefore interesting. For example,
they hold every scrap of writing to ba
sacred, no matter what the characters
express the merest commercial mes
sage or advertisement Included, de
clares a writer in the San Francisco
Chronicle. Since Confucius used thoss
characters to teach his wisdom, they
are holy.
In the average Chinese community,
all letters and waste paper are laid
away in a clean receptacle to await
the collector, who appears at regular
Intervals to transfer the waste papers
to the sacred furnace.' If the papers
are burned by tha Chinese In their
own homes, the ashes of the sacred
writings would mingle with the ashes
i of wood and other fuel, and the ashes
of Chinese writings are as sacred as
the writing Itself.
The ashes from the sacred furnace
are placed in sacks, the sacks are con
veyed by wagons to the sea, and there,
in a boat, are carried out where the
tide runs swift and consigned to the
waves. The boat, known as a Mon
War boat, belongs to the Mon War
Sher, which is a lodge with branches
everywhere, organized and maintain
ed for the purpose of paying reverenct
to the spirit of Confucius.
The furnace In the Chinatown which
nearly every large city in the United
States harbors is generally a brick,
oven-like structure about Ave feet high.
Opposite it on the wall there will us
ually be an Inscription of the charac
ter of the following: "The spirits of
our ancestors are pleased that we keep
sacred the writings of our country."
The society of Mon War Sher ciua
of the beautiful Writing is made up
1n each case of the prominent deni
zens of Chinatown, who support it by
voluntary subscriptions, which pay tho
salaries of the keeper and his asslsti
int. .
Human After All.
"Well, I must leave you. I've got an
engagement with a collection agent In
fifteen minutes."
"And you're hastening up to tho of
fice to meet htm, you honest man." '
I "No, I'm hastening to get hid, for
he's due along here any minute."-
Kansas City Times.
Green Tomato Mines Pie. "
Chop fine one pint of green toma
toes and three large apples. Add three
cups of sugar, three tablespoons ot
flour, one-half cup of vinegar, one-half
teaspoon of salt, tnd one teaspoon ot
mixed apices. Bak with two crusts.
New Bono of Contention.
"I don't speak to the woman acrou
the street any more."
"What's tho matter now?"
"She's for Peary." Birmingham
ige-Herald.
It doesn't take long for a handsom
young widow to convince a woman hat
or of tho error of his wars.