, 
EW-YORKER. 
fitcrarg UtisrrKanij, 
And Harold rose to put a chair for the old 
woman, whom both he and Cora always treated 
with the respect due to her age and faithful 
service. 
“I will not detain you a minute, signor,” she 
went on; a flush appeared on the yellow wrin¬ 
kled face. *• I only wanted to know how long 
Milord Almane would remain? 
Harold looked a little surprised. 
"Until he Is quite well—as lODg as he likes, of 
course," he answered. “ Why do you ask, Mari¬ 
anna?” 
“ I should be glad It be were gone, signor,” said 
the old servant, sturdily. " Such grand* seigneurs 
as ne Is, are out of place in our quiet home.” 
The young artist smiled. 
“I never knew you Inhospitable before,” he 
said. “ Lord Almane has fallen very easily Into 
our quiet ways.” 
••Too easily,”muttered Marianna, discontent¬ 
edly; then she went on aloud“ Milord Almane 
Is quite well enough to go, signor 7” 
Harold lifted his eyebrows. As an old and faith¬ 
ful servant and friend, Marianna had many privi¬ 
leges ; but he did not recognise her right to dic¬ 
tate to his guests the limit or their stay. 
** Lord Almano Is welcome to remain as long as 
he wishes, Marianna, ’’ he said, quietly. “Ills 
being well enough to go does not make any neces¬ 
sity for departure as long as he cares to remain.” 
“ Signor," said Marianna, earnestly, “ do you 
not know, can you not guess, that great as he Is, 
and rich as he Is, you possess a treasure which 
Milord AlmaQe courts with all his heart? Are 
you willing that he should have lt7” 
Harold Sinclair looked up in astonishment. The 
woman’s tone was so full of significance that he 
could not but see there was a deep meaning at¬ 
tached to her words. 
“ What do you mean, Marianna7" 
“ 1 mean this, signorand she motioned him 
to follow her. 
Leaving the studio, which was lighted by a 
large window let Into the roof, Harold followed 
her on to the landing without. An Ivy-covered 
latticed window looked out upon the garden, and 
following tbedirectlou or Marianna’s glance, Har¬ 
old saw his sister and Lord Almane strolling up 
and down the little path. 
It was a fair, sunshiny April morning, and the 
treeB were putting forth their tender green shoots, 
the flowers their spring buds; but Harold Sinclair 
saw nothing but the two people who were pacing 
up and down In the sunlight. 
Lord Almane still wore his arm In a sling, and 
was wrapped In a long, fur-trimmed coat; but ho 
looked very happy and contented, notwithstand¬ 
ing that his face still bore marks of suffering. 
Cora had caught up a gay scarlet scarf which 
she had thrown over her head, andtwlsied around 
her, beneath which her face looked out radiant 
with light and beauty—more beautiful than her 
brother had ever seen It before. 
Harold drew back from the window, a flush of 
palrfcl surprise rising to Ms face. Could It be 
possible that Lord Almane had so betrayed 
the laws of hospitality and honor? No, It could 
not he. But there was danger to Cora In the 
compaulonshlp; danger In playing with such 
edged tools. What might, be amusement to Lord 
Almane would not be to the Innocent Inexper¬ 
ienced young girl; and his lordship could have no 
serious intention towards her, unless.- 
“ Do you thlDk he loves her ?” asked Harold, In 
a low tone to Marianna, as he went back to hls 
studio. 
“ Ay, as he can love,” she replied. 
“And she?” 
"She? Ah, signor, she has a child’s heart, 
and a child’s heart Is easily touched, easily 
wounded; hut, but the salats be praised, easily 
healed. 
There was a short silence. 
“ Do you know aught of him, signor ?” 
Harold shook hls head ; he was feeling painfully 
the Imprudence of hls conduct In allowing the 
free, unrestrained companionship between hls 
slBter and hls guest; but the habit of looking up¬ 
on Cora as a child was strong upon him still, and 
he had never thought of danger. 
“ It. muBt be stopped at once,” he said, aloud, 
striding up and down the studio. “It was 
wrong to expose her to-” 
“ But, signor,” the old serve-nt Interposed, “ our 
stgnorlna would make a beautiful grande dame. 
It may be that milord would make her hls wife, 
and all we need ascertain is whether he is worthy 
of her.” 
Harold smiled sadly. 
•‘Ah, Marianna, If It were so, It would he well 
Indeed. But men like Lord Almane do not. marry 
girls In Cora's position.” 
“Why not, Blgoor7” said Marianna, almost 
fiercely. “ The slgnorlua oomes of a family as 
ancient, perhaps more so, than hls own.” 
“That may be, Marianna," replied Harold, un¬ 
able to resist a smile at tlm old woman’s flash of 
herce pride. I hope the child’s affections are not 
seriously engaged,” he went on In a minute. 
“Leave me now, Marianna, and let me think 
what Is best to be done.”—To be continued. 
WASHINGTON SIGHTS. 
The Agricultural Building—Tea Crowing In 
the South. 
MARY GAY ROBINSON. 
Washington, D. C., Feb. 14, 1878. 
One of the most Interesting departments in 
Washington Is the Agricultural. Once it was a 
mete appendage of the Patent Office, and very 
ultably associated with that, as the first lnven- 
442 
der seams, from which It Is left plain and taste¬ 
fully shaped at Its front, edges. 
The fashionably shaped coat-sleeve, with gath¬ 
ers underneath the elbow. Is made of the silk and 
trimmed at the wrist with a deep puff of the.ma- 
terlal, shirred at about an inch from the upper 
and lower edges. 
ANSWEHS TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
Mrs. S. G. H.— First rip the baby’s cape,separat¬ 
ing tbe merino from the lining and the trimming. 
If the satin Is very much soiled, I know of no 
way to renovate It, except sending It to a profes¬ 
sional cleaner. But the merino can be thoroughly 
cleaned by carefully washing It after the follow¬ 
ing method: 
1st. Brush It well so as to get tld of dust. Use 
only fresh rain water, or very clear river water 
Is preferable. With a sponge or old flannel rub up 
a very strong lather of either soft soap or best 
yellow soap. The lather may be prepared with a 
small quantity of water and th8 remainder (of the 
water) added boiling hot, the moment before 
uslnglt. The whole should be as hot as the hand 
can bear It; the hotter the better. If tbe cape Is 
very dirty, two lathers may be required In suc¬ 
cession ; and unless a seconl person Is at hand to 
rub up the second while, the flrst Is being used, 
both had better be prepared In separate vessels 
before the wools are wetted, leaving only the 
boiling water to be added. Take the article to 
be washed and without leaving hold of It. keep 
on dipping and raising, dipping and raising, for 
two or three minutes. By that time the lather 
will he absorbed by the wool, and the liquor will 
resemble slimy suds. Squeeze the article as dry 
as may be without, wringing it. 
The second lather having been brought to the 
same heat as the first, proceed in the same man¬ 
ner, dipping and raising. It the article is only 
slightly soiled and after the first washing appears 
quite clean and clear, the second washing tnay be 
made In hot water without soap. Whether lather, 
or water only, a blue-bag may be slightly drawn 
through before the second washing. Having 
squeezed the article dry as may be, spread It on a 
a coarse, dry cloth pulling It cut to its proper 
shape, lay over It another coarse dry cloth, roll 
up tightly and let It remain hall an hour. If you 
care to send the cloak or the cape to me, I will 
have It cleaned for you, and returned In good or¬ 
der. The cost will he about f 1.25 or $1.50. If you 
should decide to send It, would recommend that 
you rip It apart. 
Clara Breitman.— The most fashionable even¬ 
ing hat at present Is a thing of lace, feathers and 
flowers; very much resembling a fancy cap; but 
in spite of its dainty appearance, horribly sugges¬ 
tive of such uri roman tic aliments as neuralgia, 
tooth-ache and Influenza. 
THE RURAL 
“ And yet you have lived abroad your brother 
tells me. Does not Richmond seem very lifeless 
after Paris and Rome ?" 
“ I was too young when we came here to feel 
the change,"she answered. “ At ton years old If 
one has one's favorite companions and toys It Is 
all one needs.” 
“ But not at twenty,.’ he said, quickly. “ Then 
one ought to live, not merely exist. Ah I there 
are such beautiful things In this world of ours. I 
for one, quite agree with Voltaire, In calling it 
‘ the best of all possible worlds I’ ” 
Cora raised her eyes wonderlngly to hls face, 
but she did not understand the expression she 
saw there. 
“ I am so many years older than you," he went 
on, smiting a little. " You are looking at life 
through rose-colored spectacles, my child. But I, 
who see things as they are, know that those 
moralJzers are wrong who say there Is nothing 
worth living for. There is much 1” 
He paused a moment, and meeting her wistful, 
wondering eyes, laughed a Uttle as he proceeded: 
“ I am getting earnest," he said, lightly ; “hut it 
is rather a pet hobby of mine—the way In which 
the greater part of humanity waste their time, 
their lives, and die without ever having lived — 
lived in the real acceptation of the word—at all, 
and say, like dolts as they are, that there Is noth¬ 
ing worth living for: Nothing I” he went on, pas¬ 
sionately, hls tones losing all their languid 
dreaminess In hls earnestness—" nothing t when 
there Is beauty such as yours, my child—beauty 
which could bring back an old man's vanished 
youth; when there Is pleasure—the pleasure de¬ 
rived from the use of physical and intellectual 
faculties; and lastly,” here hls voloe took the soft 
toDdertone which was becoming familiar to Cora 
now—“ lastly, there Is love!” 
“ Do you know what that Is, Cora? I hope not— 
I hope not. Ah! forgive me If I am presumptuous, 
let me teach you what It Is. I can—I know I can, 
If you will let me, Nay, do not take away your 
hand, my child. Will you let me teach you 
the lesson, Cora 7 It shaU not be a hard one, 
Cora.” 
She had risen In her agitation, but had not 
withdrawn her hands from hls as he held them 
closely; both faces were passion-pale, and hers 
was deeply moved. ;He, more experienced 
though he was, had spoken with no small degree 
of emotion, for her beauty had touched him 
deeply. 
“ You have taught me to love, Cora," went on 
the tender mmlcal tones; “ may I not teach you 
the same lesson ?” 
The girl’s head dropped, and her lips quivered, 
as she turned slightly toward him. 
“Cora—Cora—my own 1” 
He had not risen but held her two hands closely 
clasped In one of hls, and sitting there, he bowed 
hls head over the little hands which fluttered In 
Ills grasp, and pressed hls Ups upon them, even 
as he had done once before. This time they were 
not withdrawn. 
Marianna, passing down the garden, saw the 
group; one rapid glance showed her Cora’s droop¬ 
ing head and tremulous lips; Lord Almane’s 
pleading, passionate face and attitude of devo- 
tlOD. The old servant rapidly retraced her steps, 
and a few minutes after, with a light knock at 
the door, appeared in the drawing-room with 
He did not answer, and there was a short si- some tea, and a quietly expressed hope that the 
lence. Cora knew that the dark glowing eyes slgnorlna had not let hls lordship talk too much 
were fixed upon her, and felt herself flush and He was not looking any the better for hls coming 
grow pale under the earnest gaze. Lord Almane down! 
saw her agitation, and smiled. *»*••• 
"How do you generally pass your time?” he “May I speak a few words to you, signor?” 
said, In a minute. “ Are you much alone here 7 said Marianna, putting her head In at the door of 
Is It not a Uttle dull for you ?’’ Harold’s studio one morning. 
“ Oh, no !” she answered, quickly. “ Certainly, Marianna; come in and sit down.” 
6161 
If preferred, the vest and center-back can be 
made of the contrasting fabric, and frtnge, folds, 
pipings, lace, plaltlngs or galoon-bands can be 
employed as decorations Instead of the slashes. 
Any pretty method of finish, and any styUah com¬ 
bination of materials, either of uniform or con¬ 
trasting colors, are suitable for this model, which 
would be exceedingly handsome if composed of 
velvet and silk or silk and cashmere, and trim¬ 
med with satin pipings and deep silk fringe min¬ 
gled with clair de lune beads. For a polonaise of 
black silk, a vest of shirred satin would be very 
handsome, combinations of satin and silk being 
partlculary fashionable. 
We have pattern No. 6145. In making the pol¬ 
onaise tor a lady of medium size, ten yards of 
goods twenty-two Inches wide, or five yards forty- 
eight Inches wide, together with three yards and 
an eighth of silk for the sleeves, revers and laps, 
and a yard and flre-elghtbs of lining material 
twenty-seven Inches wide, will he needed. Price 
of pattern, thirty-five cento. 
Patterns described are for Bale at the office of 
the Rural New-Yorker, at prices given. 
Faith Ripley. 
6161 
MASKED BATTERIES. 
0 0 E A. 
CHAPTER IV. 
“ is this prudent ?” Cora said, half reproach¬ 
fully, as Lord Almane came forward and took her 
hand. 
•• Do 1 look so very ghost-lUce ?” he asked, smil¬ 
ing, as he held her hand and bent a very admir¬ 
ing look on her face. “ Do not send me away, 
for pity’s sake. I am so tired of soUtary confine¬ 
ment, hut I shall wish myself upstairs again It 
you look sorry to see me.” 
“ I am very glad,’’she answered, coloring hotly 
under hls dark eyes, and gently disengaging her 
hand—" very glad ; and yet sorry to see you look¬ 
ing so 111.” 
“ It Is ten dayBsince I had a glimpse of you,” he 
weuton, as he sat down and lent hls head hack 
on the cushions. “ Ten long weary days I Have 
you been a little sorry for me, Mtss Sinclair 7" 
“ A little!" said Cora, Impulsively; " much 
more than a little.” 
" Have you ?—really 7” he queried, eagerly. “ I 
have wished to see you bo much. Your brother 
has been all that Is kind, but all hls attention 
could not prevent me from wondering whether 
you thought of me sometimes, and pitied me a 
little." 
“ You have suffered a great deal,” she said, 
gently, taking up some work to hide her embar¬ 
rassment. 
6145 
If you’ll keep It secret—honor bright— 
I’ll tell you a little story. Joe; 
Something that happened to me laBt night 
Here at the masquerade ball, you know. 
You may have noticed I’ve spooned of late 
On Laura Clyde—nothing else to do— 
She’s rather pretty—at any rate. 
Fond of flirting, and I am, too. 
Segmenting Laura—a gypsy maid— 
Knew her at once by her dress, you see— 
I took her out for a promenade 
On the piazza alone with mo. 
Flirted ? Raid I was deep in love. 
Madly worshiped the ground she trod. 
Vowed it by all below, above. 
Did she return it!—a word, a nod f 
The fair head dropped in assent, and I 
Snatched off the mask—with rapture kissed her: 
A peal of laughter was my reply. 
By Jove, old boy, it was my sister! 
Laugh at me, Joe! Don’t Bpare my pride! 
Nor mind my feelings—I feel so glad 
It was my sister, not Laura Clyde; 
Heavens! What an escape I bad ! 
[Vamtv Verses. 
6145 
Laura’s a friend of my sister Fan: 
Her rooms Join mine aud the walls are thin. 
So I, by accident heard them plan 
Their dresses for masquerading in. 
The ball wab lovely, the costumes fine. 
And either dancing or Iced champagne— 
Can’t say which, but expect the wine— 
Just a little confused my brain. 
