Zelda Dameron-
By
MEREDITH
NI CHOLSON
C^prrWkl. 1*04. by Tk.
X L — (Continued.)
said Zelda. who was
\try hard, "that one simply
L » mortgage; Just as though
Rasies or croup or scarlet fs-
C»
p TEB
l^rtgages aren't at all serious
¿¡jsarlly fatal— if you don't
for expose yourself before it’s
joes one contract a
mort-
-jd Zelda.
it mine at college." said Ol-
tdew our substance on edu-
1 Just found It out recently.
Ills been carrying the burden
iy herself. The subject Isn't
Let us talk of
something
‘t°eufn*f “ 0V?r *° mr- and then tajpe
1
in t h 7 , ° W ,n" >, ° r char* e 11 tn
‘n . th# trusteeship.
I suppose I
might buy it of you— that would be
than t w o T “ , " ^ bUt 1 haven't more
r
^ ,dr* d dollara Ma>’be
clal favorT'* ^
^
f“ b#r' aa a « • -
ohi!!nfht0 * Uard you a* aln» ‘ Just such
Philanthropy that I am your trustee.
Vm. know nothing of these things.
"But my own aunt and cousin'"
h“" h* ad ,ll* h“ y; but he
was afraid to refuse to grant Zelda's
wish, but perhaps In permitting her
to help her unfortunate relatives ne
would gain the favor of Heaven.
I will draw the notes from the bank
do you keep your mortgage?”
and let the matter rest for the present,
, half-seriously. "H o w does idee, if you very much wish It.”
t the beast?”
If that will save them further trou
items to be In a bank Just at ble, that will do."
■ snswered Olive, evasively,
"I shall give the bank notice in a day
sounds formidable.
But It’s
or two," said Dameron. reluctantly. He
that you have to move. H a r
wished that Zelda would go. He did
is the most
charming
not at all like the Idea of having her
town. I can't think of you as
visit him in his office, and to-day he
Uwhere else except I nthls
was engrossed with important eompu-
JUSC.
tatlons. He wished to be rid of her,
thsve to, for me move almost
but she rose so suddenly that he was
is they say In stories."
startled.
father continued to pay a
"W hy, father, I couldn’t think of
‘jy month to her credit at the
troubling you with a thing of this sort
I money matters were rarely
when you're doing It as a favor to me!
mentioned between them. She
SVhat bank Is It? The one where I
idtrstand how anxious he was
keep my account? Oh, I know them
'any clash with Rodney M er-
over there. I'm going down that way
the management
of
her
anyhow, and I'll tell mem you don't
; and she did not appreciate
want those notes collected. Thank you
toess of the sum he gave her ever so much."
*J with the full amount
her
"No. no; I’ll have to see about It per
. ihould have earned.
Zeld i sonally. You mustn't Interfere In the
ten of In M ariona as an heir- matter at all!” he almost shouted at
lt was the general belief that her. But she had no Idea of trusting
id have not only the property him, and she walked straight toward
by her mother, but the large the door, at which she turned.
thich Ezra Dam eron had been
"It’s sp’endld of you to let me do it.
lying through
many
years. And please don't be late for dinner
», were Mrs. Forrest and Rod again to-night. It’s a new trick of
ham, who were childless; both yours, and Polly doesn’t like It at all.
i by local standards.
Good-by."
; one afternoon a week later,
Zelda w -nt directly to the bank and
jded to speak to her father sought Burton, the cashier, whom she
alive's perplexity, she went to had met several times at parties. He
y In the Dam eron Block and gave her a seat by his desk near the
;; effort to conceal the fact that front window. He was sure that she
‘ come on business. H er father had come to solicit for a charity, and
over his accounts as she she was so handsome that he rather
ydenly on the threshold of tne enjoyed his peril.
room.
“I have come from my father to
, Zee, what brings you here?" speak about a business matter. He is
ted.
very sorry that he can’t come him
¡on an errand." said Zelda. "I self. There are some notes here for
‘ink your housekeeping is well collection, given by Mrs. Thomas M er
she added, glancing about the riam to my father— He thought, or— I
mean, they were to have been collect
ves me very well,” said the ed, but it was all a mistake about
“Business Is only to be coo them. He wished me to say that noth
ls business."
ing was to be done."
! Just heard that Olive Mer-
"Excuse me one moment, Miss Dam
! her mother are In trouble— eron."
money trouble.”
He went to the note-teller’s cage and
ted at her quickly, and search- brought the notes, which were pinned
nth his sharp eyes. The Mer- to the mortgage.
ed been trading on
Zelda’s
"Your father wishes nothing done in
■p. he decided, and he smiled the matter?" he asked, laying the slips
¡df as he settled back In his of paper before Zelda.
¡itermined to thw art any qulx-
"No,” she answered, slowly, eying
that Zelda might broad In the notes curiously. "I suppose I may
Jlalf.
as well take them with me— to save my
ifine that they have very llt- father the trouble of coming for them."
r little,” he said.
That’s a little— irregular,
I sup
^w nothing of their affairs; but pose," said the young man, doubtfully,
¡Just learned that they expect but he laughed.
J and when I asked Olive why,
"I suppose It is," said Zelda, "but
^they owed a debt they couldn't father was very anxious that nothing
you happen to know what should be done, so I’ll Just take them
it is?" she asked.
along. Your bank Is so big that some
1 1 hold the mortgage.
It’s In one might forget a little thing like
ft for collection.”
this.”
didn't tell me that you held it.
The young man hesitated and was
id a bank had It. The money lost. Zelda crumpled the papers be
Jrrowed to pay
Olive's
way tween her gloved fingers and closed her
■ school. The debt Is to you.” (1st upon them.
! as trustee," he corrected,
“There’s something else I have In
pthen, something of mine, fath- tended speaking to you about,"
she
said, dismissing the notes carelessly.
surmlse Is quite correct.
I "You haven’t had any nice new money
trustee for you, several notes, in your bank for a long time, Mr. B ur
Mrs. Merriam. They’re now ton. And old bills are perfectly horri
I shouldn’t think people would
sit and Iri the bank for collec- ble.
stand it— these old. worn-out
bills.
sorry I didn't know that ear Suppose a new bank should start up
ner. I wish you had told me. with a lot of new money— you wouldn’t
been seeing a good deal of my last a day.”
Olive. I like her Immensely; I
The cashier laughed: Miss Dameron
i to her house familiarly, and had a reputation for saying amusing
been to see me pretty often, and unexpected things.
■« could get aw ay from
her
" I ’ll ask the teller to keep a fresh
1 didn't know, o f course, that I supply for you. W e don’t want to lose
i remotely their creditor. The your account. Miss Dameron.
Isn't
exactly
comfortablp.
"Thank you, so much. And If fath
’ 1 know it."
er should come In. please tell him I
sorry that the matter should have the notes. I might miss him, you
»; but there Is no reason why know.”
*old transfer their burdens to
Zelda locked the mortgage and notes
alders. Zee.”
in her own desk, with no intention of
* you understand that they giving them to her father, unless he
rer mentioned this subject or should demand them.
/•hat they owed you or me. I
fj!ow that they feel they must
C H A P T E R XII.
! house. I fancy they are be-
Jack Baleomb, walking through an
by the bank— to pay the alley that ran parallel with Jefferson
street, marked the unmistakable figure
?l»nk has, o f course, no alter- of Ezra Dameron ahead of him. This
Jki the matter. It's their busi- alley was called Ruby street for no rea
l collect”
son that any one knew. It was lined
rll the owner of the note doesn’t with the rear doors of Jefferson street
• push the people who made the shops on one side and those of Jobbing
houses on the other, and, as it was
^ very bad business to carry narrow, its traffic was usually con
• Paper. N e w notes have to t.e gested
A few saloons were squeezed
• such cases."
into comers here and there and in one
! clear to Zelda that her father large room opening directly on the al
h'mpathy with her liking for ley a dealer in margins maintained an
ams or her wish to help them
office.
,
, __
l difficulty. She w as sure that
"I bet a dollar you’re going for a
1 manage In some way to stop d rin k " Balcomb remarked, under his
ure that w as being brought to breath; but the old man passed a sa
them, and she hoped to do It loon and went on. He «e e m e d t o b e ln
h«r father without going to haste, and Balcomb stepped Into the
who would, she knew, give middle of the alley and " atcJiedJ l 1™’
money she m ight ask, after he until he reached the brokers office,
-* a row about I t But It pleas- which he entered without looking
to carry the m atter through Around.
father.
Balcomb whist!*-?.
"W o n .,
than
Is the amount, rather?"
drink.” he reflected, and went up to his
oon*Io!.r 0 b
**veraI enterprises
with
conslderabie dash. and. a . he cultlvat-
&Dn#»r I * * ? rt#r** hla name frequently
bnn<b, d »
the newspapers.
The
hrtid | * of interurban trolley lines was
. * n*
surrounding towns more
nd more into touch with the capital,
country banker and the small cap
italist were now much seen in the
, reeb® °* Mariona. They were learn
ing the lingo of metropolitan busi
ness; many of them had found It con-
'enlent to enroll themselves as non
resident members of the Commercial
t-lub, and Jack Balcomb’s office proved
a pleasant rendezvous.
Here they
could use his stenographers, and the
°ng-distanca telephone was theirs to
command. The banks and trust com-
panies were a trifle large for these
tnterurban capitalists; but Jack Bal
comb accommodated himself to great
and small. Prosperous farmers, who
wore finding It pleasant to run into the
capital, now that the street car passed
their door, learned much from B al
comb, who had the rosy Imagination
and sublime zeal that they lacked. B a l
comb had organized the Patoka Land
and Improvement Company to give the
lnterurbanltes a chance to taste the
sweets of large enterprises.
Balcomb found a group
of
men
waiting for him in his office and he
sent them into his private room while
he dictated In a loud tone to one of
his stenographers. It was a latter to *.
famous W all street banking house and
referred In large figures to a certain or
uncertain bond deal which, from the
terms of the letter, the New
York
house and Balcomb were carrying on
together. It was. to be sure, a letter
that never would encumber the mat’s,
but this made no difference to Balcomb,
who gave it what he called the true
commercial literary finish.
He left the stenographers to them
selves with the solemn injunction that
he was not to be disturbed; then he
entered his private office briskly and
was soon talking breathlessly to half
a dozen auditors. He stood with a pile
of architect's sketches before him, dis
closing to his associates of the Patoka
Land and Improvement Company his
scheme for ati ideal flat. He smoothed
the blue prints on the table carefully
as he said:
"You gentlemen will admit that there
are plenty of apartment houses down
town. Every old corner is getting one.
Every lone widow In the community
takes her life Insurance money and
blows It Into a flat and thinks it safsr
than government bonds. But I've got
an idea worth two of the best of them.
I wish we could copyright It, it's so
good.”
He let a dreamy look come into his
eyes while the grave incorporators of
the Patoga Land and Improvement
Company listened.
He had dropped
the "we” in a casual way. but It had
reached the right spot In the breasts
of the lnterurbanltes.
"It’s up to us to do something new;
and It has struck me that a ten-story
flat, with every comfort and luxury
provided, located away from the heat
and dirt of the city, but accessible by
car line. Is the thing we're looking for.
Instead of gazing out on smoke-stacks
our tenants will look down on trees!
Does It sound good to you?"
"But where are you going to get all
this?" asked Van Cleve, his attorney,
who frequently acted as Interlocutor
at such meetings.
"That's not so easy. You’ve got fo
get on the best street and on a good
car line, an
you’ve got to go north.
Remember, there’s a park system go
ing out that way right up the creek.
A park system and a boulevard would
be worth millions to us.
There are
only two or three sites possible a n j
the best of all Is the corner where
High street crosses Ripple Creek. It
loows awful good to me anywhere
along there.
Twenty minutes
from
Jefferson street gentlemen; all
the
comforts of the city; all the Joys of the
country. Now this Is our scheme and
we don’t want a lot of little real estate
fakirs crossing our trail. If I may be
a bit confidential and philosophical. I’ll
warn you against three classes of men
— plumbers, real estate agents
and
preachers In plug hats and shining al
paca coats who handle a line of A ri
zona mining stock on the side.”
(T o be continued. I
In flu e n c e o f
E n v ir o n m e n t.
The parrot which belonged to the
rich malefactor sat in its gilded cage,
contemplating a price mark which had
not yet been removed. Presently the
magnate approached, and the bird
looked at him. He had been on the
witness stand that day in an important
case, and was feeling rather elated
over his successful testimony.
“ Hello, P o lly !” he greeted the bird,
sticking his finger through the bars.
“ H e llo!” responded Polly, ignoring
the finger.
“ Does Polly want a cracker?"
The bird cocked his head to one side
Inquiringly. The magnate laughed at
Its manner. Possibly the bird had Jot
quite understood the question.
"Does Polly want a cracker?" he re
peated.
The bird still looked at him with
slanting vision, but made no reply.
“ Oho!” he laughed. "You’ re not
hungry. Have you had your dinner?”
’ I don't remember," croaked the
bird, and the magnate ordered the but
ler to remove it from the premise*
forthwith.— Llppincotts.
H is
E x p la n a tio n .
Smller— Here’s a college
professo.
who wants to know why Americans are
unhappy.
Grouch— Maybe It’s because the col
lege professors talk so much.—Cleve
land Plain Dealer. __________
C o n d rn a e d .
"Do you use condensed milk at your
house T*
*‘ I £uess so. We order a quart a day,
and the milkman squeezes It into a
can that holds about a pint."— Cleve
land Leader.
D e lic a te .
thousand dollars— with Inter-
accumulated Interest"
“ Light weight, la ha?"
“^Balcomb’s mind seethed with schemes
"»lied In relief. She could these days. He sought to give an air
"W ell, If he ever steps on a match
-*®d two thousalnd dollars.
Of seriousness to his bualn« “ byJ u he’ll be blown to atom«."— Kansas City
“°w much Is the house worth?" rying In the daily press an advertise
1 ®ve thousand, possibly. But ¡ 2 * 7 which read. "J. Arthur Balcomb. Journal.____ _________________ _
so market for such property Investm ent Broker," and he Inscribed
I f a man w ait« until ha hlmaelf la
•waent The trend of real as- the same legend on his stationery. Th* perfect before helping other«, he will
® to another direction."
never help anybody.— W. J. Br/aa.
solid business men of
• to carry this loan. If It has •d aim a UttU warily, but &• aau
■
’H*d oersonally. I want you
MODES
e ; ©he
M OM ENT
v > tsyu
E
jb LV
WIFE’S PET DOG WAS USEFUL
In
O r d e r to S e c u r e N e w Silk D ree«
S h e Q lv e e B e a s t to S is t e r — C a n
Get H im Back.
” 1 haven’t seen your pet dog for
several day«," said a devoted husband
(• his wife.
“ No,” she replied; "th e fact Is, I
have given him away."
"Wfcy, you needn’t have done that.
I haf Sot particular objection to him.'*
“ Ok, I know that!
But I thought
that It was not right for me to have
a pet dog about the house when I
have such a good, kind husband to
lavish my affections upon."
The husband tank Into a chair with
a deep sigh.
“ How much do you want. M ary?"
he asked, as he drew hla p ur*« from
bla pocket; "It can't be a sealskin
Jacket, for the winter Is over."
"N o ," she said, “ It la not a sealskin
Jacket darling; but I would really like
a new silk dress this summer, and you
know It has to be bought and made
and all th a t"
"N ow ,” he said, as he handed her
the money "what proof of your af
fections will you give me when you
want another dress, since you have
given away your dog?"
“ Oh." she sweetly replied, "T vs
given the dog to my sister, and I can
get him back again !”
wish to discard this hall worn-out. It
Is the black satin dress of the char-
mouse description which held and re
tains our best a fractions, and few
gowns are more becoming than this,
so that the Individual studies carefully
the lines of her figure and bestows
much attention on her neck«ear. To
some the turn-down collar la beoom-
tng; on others, It la fatal; and the
very thin neck, or the very old neck
Is better for the Influence of a band o!
black velvet held with a diamond
brooch. Then, again, people with very
long necks will Invariably find they
look better under the Influence of a
transparent collarband fitting tightly
under the chin. Perfectly plain net la
much used for these bands, and with a
narrow hem of black satin they obtain
most general recognition. The addi
tion of a pearl necklet, of two, or even
three strings, on the black satin dress
with the transparent top, Is very valu
able, and, added to a broad-brimmed
Then W e'd Hear Things.
hat with a real lace veil, well adjusted,
“ It's In the world of politics,” said
completes a costume hard to b eat
Patent leather shoes have yielded the talkative man, “ that the truth of
place to those of antelope, and laoe the old saying, ’Money talks,’ la moat
stockings hare been entirely super frequently proven."
"Y es," replied the wlee citizen, "but
seded by the very thinnest gauae
If hush money would only talk, what
silk.
There is nothing very new In the sensations we would have."— Catholic
land of parasols, and we appear to find Standard and Times.
most satisfaction from those of plain
silk.
Elaborations,
however, show
AGREED.
spotted net bound with velvet or satin,
and we have recognised that the han
dle made of beads la by no meana com
fortable to hold.
Which reminds me there are some
pretty new models In handbags, leath
er being for the moment discarded In
favor of watered silk, tasseled and
held by a frame of gold. Theee look
very well In black with a gold mono
gram In the left-hand corner. Velvet,
too, Is used for these handbags, but
watered silk Is undoubtedly more at
tractive, and antelope skin Is patron
ized also for this purpose.
Black satin Is to be the material for
bathing dresses, the trimming to re
main strictly black, silken br &14 being
chosen for choice, while the belt Is to
be of patent leather, and thin black
stockings are to be worn, and the
cap to be also of black. A variation of
this scheme Includes blue and white-
striped stockings and a blue and
white cap, but black, entirely black. Is
Fudge— Troublesh
never
coma
really the moat chic. As a more eco shingly. Thash my ’sperience.
nomical suggestion, violet bunting
Smudge— Mine, too.
I’m smarrle»
may be used. An excellent trimming m’shelf, ol’ man.
can be formed of black or black and
white cross-stitch, worked either In
Proof at Hand.
cotton or silk, the rule of the black
Magistrate— Who la the prisoner?
patent leather belt still being strictly
Policeman— He says he’s a foreign
observed. The shape of the bathing
nobleman, your honor.
dress follows the lines of the shape of
Magistrate— Did you search him?
other dresses as nearly as It dare, the
Policeman— Yes, and all I found was
skirts being narrow and the sleefes
a pawn ticket and 3 cents.
without fulness on the top. H owever,
M agistrate— Then he evidently told
the reticent will consider the charms
'h e truth.
of the kilted skirt which bears a lim
ited amount of stuff about the waist,
and this can he well achieved by the
Instinct.
checked tolle which come to us from
8!ck magnate (fe e b ly )— W hat la
Paris. Then, again, we always have that on the table there?
the fascinations of red and pink bath
Secretary— That? That Is the doo-
ing dresses to consider.
tor’s medicine case.
Pink is amongst the few colors we
Sick magnate (re lie v e d )— Thanks.
are adopting enthusiastically this sea I— er— thought It was a camera.
son. Pink of the palest Shantung and
tussore makes charming coats and
Two.
skirts, and may also be highly com
to shine for a few hours, was a dress mended for the tunic form of dress.but
Seymour— I didn’t know that Bref.
of white muslin embroidered a Jour, of even the best laid pinks of man and fums had two automobiles.
very narrow outline and simply belted maid go all astray In the strong sun
Ashley— He hasn’t.
above the waist with a piece of white light, and It must be written that It Is
Seymour— But I heard him aay ha
ribbon, which was drawn through a not avlsable to put your faith In pinks. had two runabout^.
buckle made of forget-me-nots and pink
Ashley— One of them la hla w ife ’s.
V ery novel and desirable at that Is
roses. A bright blue chiffon scarf was an all-ln-one-piece dress made of pale
held In the hollow of the arms, and coral-tinted crepe cotton, with the hem
A Soft 8nap.
this was fringed with white glass and belt and front of the slightly full
"T h e new secretary w ill be a sort
beads, while the hat was a leghorn bodice worked In a conventional de
bound with black satin, with a bunch vice with white opalescent beads. of assistant president."
"H e ’ll have plenty to do."
of forget-me-nots and roses at one There was no other trimming save a
"I don’t doubt It. But. say, how’d
side, tied with black satin. Black small lace yoke, and the costume was
shoes and pale blue stockings put fin well crowned with a leghorn hat you like to be an aaalatant vice-presi
dent?”
ishing touches eminently picturesque, bearing a huge black velvet bow.
an adjective well deserved by the en
tire scheme. The same gathering In
Dry Cleaned Them.
cluded the wearer of a buff-colored
Have Basis for Color Scheme.
"W h y la your grandpa’s face band
voile gown, with a narrow skirt held In
A plan which results, not only In
about the knees with four lines of economy In the wardrobe, but a cer aged?" aska the lady next door.
“ He was sleeping In hla big chair,”
thick cords, the same adornment ap tain distinction as well, la that of ta
pearing at the waist, which was set king a single color scheme of the explains the little girl, "and W illie
rather high, and again outlining the whole wardrobe. This Is accomplished turned the nozzle of the vacuum
round yoke, which was filled transpar most frequently with black, by p e r cleaner against hla whiskers.”
ently to the throat with gold and plati sons In mourning, but there are f e l
num lace. A bunch of wallflowers In others who care to have the most of
At the ODera.
a turban hat of Tuscan was most wise their costumes plain black. Gray la
Usher— Ladles, the audience wishes
ly worn with this, while a scarf of good. If It la becoming.
Black and you to keep still during the perform
printed chiffon In Paisley colors fringed white, separate and In combination.
ance.
with silk was an excellent accompani Is quite delightful. Brown. If It la a
Ladles— H eavens!
Is It possible
ment.
favorite color, gives satisfying reanlta thaat the audience hasn’t heard tbla
Paisley colors have reappeared In
And In this color you have chosen, old opera before?
full force, and without a doubt dresses have your petticoats, parasols, stock
of dark serge benefit much from their ings, gloves, feather boas, scarfs, the
Mutually Agreeable.
Influence when carefully used as I straw of your hata, the groundwork
Bells— But do you think you and
facings to the c o a t I have also seen I of your foulards, blouse slips, and a
gores of Paisley successfully Intro- i hundred and one other items of the be are suited to each other?
duced on corselet skirts of dark blue | wardrobe. In this way many clever
N ell— Oh, p erfectly! Our tastes are
serge which fit quite tightly round the I and new combinations may be pro quite similar. I don’t care very much
for him, and be doesn’t care very
hips and are completed by fitting duced from a limited supply.
much for me.
bodices of Paisley much decorated with
roulades of dark blue and some dome-
shaped silver buttons.
A Good Match.
L iterary Success.
This season the yoke and collar
W e have returned to a recognition
"W ell, how’s things?"
of our old favorite blue and white must match. The yoke must extend
“ Fine,” replied the author. "T h e
spotted foulard, and In a dark shade round the back If It la to appear In critics pronounced my last novel so
banded with patent leather and com- front, and the cuffs or undersleevea worthless that I have six publisher«
\ ptetnd bv a black hat tala mne? he must match th* collar Of the ÇÇÜar!*»* bidding for my next book.”
I looked upon as a useful poesesslon yoke
There Is no such thing In the dress
: suited to face these paat aummer days
1 which has formed so cloee a resem- maker's art as an excuse for wearing
H ie H a b i t
| blance to winter In their dull atmos- a net gulmpe, for Instance, with Irish
Miss Oushlt— Harry le eo particular.
He waited till t consented to go out
lace cuffs.
j phere.
This may be made possible by the rowing with him before he proposed.
There la still a great deal of black
Mtss Cute— Oh, any girl about b a r«
worn, doubtless owing to the fact that setting In of Irish lace flowers upon
there has been a great amount bought, the net of the yoke or by tbe use of m ild have told you th at
and we ir e not eo extravagant as to a small subyoke to match the cuffs.
NE of th « most popular enter
tainments of the moment Is to
compare bargains. Everyone has
secured some, and each woman la anx
ious to justify her supreme wisdom of
selection.
And the lawn blouse, by the way,
continues among the popular fa v o r
lies In spite of whole costumes of
loulard, nlnon, and muslin being Its
very serious rival, writes our Paris c o r
respondent. Still, the well-chosen lawn
blouse and a white linen skirt cut In
corselet fashion continue to be the
success they have been for the past
five seasons, while the crowning point
of hat Is best achieved by a T egal with
a single rose of fine quality and a
binding of black velvet to the brim.
However, this is not the most usual
order of gown, for the tunic and skirt
made of muslin, or nlnon, or foulard,
with square, narrow kimono sleeves
and yoke and tight undersleevea of
Ivory lace, must be accredited with oc
cupying the topmost step on the lad
der of our love.
Foulard frocks of different colors,
displaying a device In white, look ex
tremely well with a tunic of nlnon, a
particularly good example being of
mauve and pink shot foulard, pat
terned with white and veiled In light
gray nlnon. Effective, too, Is a light
brown and white foulard with a nlnon
tunic In dark brown, and the dark
brown hat which completes It Is a
close turban shape In chip with an
effect uncurled ostrich feather at one
side held with a topaz Jewel at the
base.
The straight, narrow frock of muslin
or foulard, which Is unveiled Is Invari
ably accompanied by a scarf; and very
effective indeed, at a garden party the
other day, when the sun condescended
O