22 1 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
tected a dairymaid enjoying the homage paid by 
one of the reapers. 
“ Go into the house and And Eve,” she said. “ I 
shall be with you directly." 
Felix found Eve In the garden; and so Intently 
was the girl thinking that she never beard his foot¬ 
steps until he stood by her side. 
“ Eve r he said gently; and he was startled by 
the sudden change In her face when she saw him. 
It wus dyed crimson, and the sweet earnest eyes 
fell before his. she could not speak to him atonce; 
and a sudden convict ion flashed across his mind 
that at. the moment he had accosted her she was 
thinking or him. 
"My dear Eve,' 1 he said, “ are we such strangers 
that you should he so startled at my presence? 
The taw# told me you were not looking so well, 
and I am come to see.'’ 
“Iam quite well,” she answered in her sweet low 
voice, “ and very pleased to see you." 
You look well enough Just. now. You ha ve the 
color of a rose in your tace," he told her. •• May I 
tind a seat here v 1 have an hour to spare, and am 
come to spend It with you.” 
lie sat down on a little garden chair, under the 
uxurlant jessamine, and began to talk to her. A 
sense of peace and repose always came over him 
when he was with Eve—a sense so sweet that he 
never cared to disturb it; and the same magical 
reeling was stealing over him now. When they 
had been talking for some time, he looked at her; 
and then hr- saw how true Mrs. Lonsdale’s words 
were. The sweet lace bad grown very thin and 
pule; there was a dull look In the tender pyps, as 
though she had wept bitter tears. She was much 
changed, and Felix was pained lo see It. lie mar¬ 
velled as to the cause, and then decided to question 
her. 
“ Eve," he said gently, “ you are not well. Why 
do you not go to the seaside for a change of air?” 
*• I am happier here than 1 should be anywhere," 
she replied. 
(Its ears detected a tone or patient weariness In 
her voice. 
“ Eve," he said impulsively, “ I do not believe you 
are happy. Have you any trouble or sorrow? 
Trust me, as 1 trust you.” 
The sweet face looked up at him. 
“ I have uo trouble,'’she answered—“and Heaven 
has been very good to me." 
But long after Felix had gone away she sat. under 
the luxuriant jessamine, and once she cried— 
“ oh, my love, you tvlll never know- In this world 
how I love you 1” 
CIIAPTEK XLVI. 
One fine morning In (September a letter came to 
the office ot Lonsdale & Son which presented very 
familiar features to those who received it. The 
creamy color or the envelope, the delicate hand¬ 
writing, the taint perfume of violets, the crest on 
the seal-each and all were familiar. 
“It ts from l.atly Cheventx,” said Felix, as he 
placed It before his father—of all the letters that 
had been received from her he had never opened 
one. 
Mr. Lonsdale read It, and then looked at Ills son. 
"She Is coming home." he announced. “She 
will be at Garswood by the end of the week, and 
wants me to see that everything Is ready for her. I 
had better go over to the Hall at once. Ah. here 
Is a post script—there is sure to be one In a lady’s 
letter 1—‘ Komember me kindly to Mrs. Lonsdale— 
and Felix.”' 
•• she is very kind," said Felix, as he sorted hts 
papers. “ 1 suppose you told her what an accumu¬ 
lation of business awaits her?" 
“ Yes. 1 thought it, time she either returned or 
gave me fuller powers of acllng,” replied Mr. 
Lonsdale. “ I am glad she is coming home. I do 
not like the llall to be closed; It makes t he whole 
neighborhood dulL” 
Darcy Lonsdale rode off at once with his good 
news; and very pleased the household at Gars¬ 
wood were. Their young mistress had been wor¬ 
shipped amongst them, and they were delighted at 
the thought of her return. Mr. Lonsdale gave all 
necessary orders, so that Lady C heventx should 
not miss any comfort or luxury. 
He called on Mrs. llaye, and found that she also 
had heard from her daughter, and that she was 
going to uarsw-ood to be in readiness to receive 
her. Mrs. llaye had very ambitious views for her 
daughter; sbe had plenty or good advice to give 
her. Now that, she liad secured wealth and a 
title, she must look for something higher still. 
“ She ought to marry a duke next," she said to 
her husband; but Frauds llaye answered— 
“ It Is Just possible she may not care to marry 
again.” 
His wife laughed at this. 
"After proving lierseir so sensible, do you think 
she Intends to retire upon her laurels? Y ou may 
depend upon it, 1-rands, her second marriage will 
be far more brillant than her tirst.” 
“ You know best, of course, my dear,” said Fran¬ 
cis llaye meekly, “ violet owes a great deal to 
your training." 
" I flatter myself," remarked Mrs llaye,” “that 
I have made her what she Is. My prudence and 
diplomacy, during her first foolish engagement to 
Felix Lonsdale, made her Lady Chevenlx.” 
" That 1 believe; hut I doubt if She has ever 
been really happy since. Do you remember how 
she used to smile and blush when Felix came ?” 
“ It was childish nonsense; she has something 
better to do than smile and blush now,” replied 
Mrs. llaye severely. *-1 hope when she does 
come you will not encourage her In any nonsense. 
Only imagine if we should live to see her a duch¬ 
ess! I always knew that site would he fortunate 
in life. What a cruel thing It would have been It 
site had married Felix Lonsdale 1" 
At the end of the week another letter came to 
t i > o U ;c at LI I (Old, asking Darcy Ion; 1 ile to go 
over to Lady chevenlx at once. 11c went and on 
his return Ju said to Felix 
“ There is a terrible accumulation of work at 
Garswood. Lady Chevenlx wishes me to remain 
at the Hall for a week, and clear up all arrears. 
It will occupy a week —the Michaelmas ac¬ 
counts are always heavy — but, Felix, I cannot 
spare a week. Lord Arlington's rent-dinner and 
many other things are close at hand, 1 do not 
think I can spare a week. 1 made a suggestion to 
Lady Chevenlx, which she seemed very pleased 
with; It was that, instead of my going to the Hall 
for six days, we should both go lor three—that Is, 
of course, If you are willing.” 
“ it, Is a matter of Indifference to me, father.'' he 
replied. “Whichever plan suits you best, or pleases 
you best., l will follow.” 
“ Then we will both go. Tt Is far easier to go to 
Garswood and take a clerk with us than have all 
that mass ol documents brought to the office." 
So It was settled that they were to go to the 
Hall, and do all the business as quickly as possible 
there. 
“ I shall prefer sitting up at night," said Felix. 
"I can always work better when there Is perfect 
silence. A few hours' extra work each night, 
and we shall soon have finished.” 
He little dreamed to what that sitting up would 
lead. 
They went on the Monday evening—a beautiful 
autumn evening, when t he sunbeams fell on the 
gray walls and lighted up the picturesque mass of 
buildings. Several visitors were at the Hall. Cap¬ 
tain Bell. Mrs. Haye, Miss Hethcote—who seemed 
as though she would never leave Lady chevenlx 
again—Lady Browning, and Miss Fern—all guests 
whom Lady Chevenlx had Invited. 
Father and son were taken at once to her bou¬ 
doir, where she sat alone : and never In her whole 
life had violet looked so charming. The year of 
quietness and repose In the climate of Normandy 
had been marvellously beneficial to her. While 
there site had not a shadow- of care; she hud 
studied nothing except to forget the past, to realise 
her good fortune, and to recruit her health. The 
consequence was that, she returned with a lovely 
and dainty hlonm. There was no longer the rain test, 
shadow on her face : it was full ol radiant, laugh¬ 
ing light; the violet eyes were clear arid bright as 
stars the scarlet lips untroubled. 
Felix looked at her as she stood in t he light of 
the setting sun. and his eyes were dazzled b.v her 
beauty and loveliness, she wore a dress of rich 
black velvet, cut square, so as to show the white 
neck, on which a diamond cross gleamed like lire. 
She wore diamond bracelets on her anus; diamond 
stars shone In the colls ot golden hair. 
In kindliest, greeting she held out her w hite jew¬ 
eled hands to Mr. Lonsdale and hts son; but her 
marvellous beauty had lor a lew minutes stricken 
them dumb. 
“ I am so delighted!" she said; and truth shone 
in her beautiful eyes. “ I thought I would see you 
here first, away Horn the other guests, because l 
wanted to talk to you. Mr. Lonsdale, take tills 
easy-chalr. Felix”—she had quite fallen Into the 
old fashion of calling him Felix—“ sit here, l akl 
not see you’’—to Felix —*- to bid you good-bye; hut > 
I am well pleased to see you on m y return. There 
Is no place like home, ts there, after all? Norman¬ 
dy is very beautiful, but Garswood Is home. Now 
tell me all that, has been done in Lllrord since I 
left. Y'ou were at Lady .Maude’s w r edd1ng—toll me 
about it, Felix. 1 am so glad she married her licit) 
after all." 
They spent one of the pleasantest hours that 
could be Imagined. The same idea struck both 
father and son. Lady Chevenlx seemed to have 
grown young again; her sunny smiles, her unusual 
laughter, her quick, clever repartee, her keen en¬ 
joyment, of thetr society—all wore noticeable, she 
had Indeed altered; she was like Violet llaye; all 
trace of the quiet, cold l.ady chevenlx had van¬ 
ished. 
Then her smiles died away for a few minutes as 
they talked of the terrible trial they had gone 
through together. She looked with soil luminous 
eyes Into Darcy Lonsdale’s lace. 
“ What old friends we are !” she said thought¬ 
fully. “ And how strange ll seems that you should 
have been with me when be died—that Felix should 
have been my chief comfort! What a riddle Hie Is 
to read!” 
After a few minutes Mr. Lonsdale remarked— 
“ You must not charm us Into forgetting our 
work, Lady Chevenlx; there Is so very much to be 
done.” 
“ Y'ou can begin as early as you like lu the morn¬ 
ing,” she said, “but this one evening yon must 
give to me. Think what a pleasure It Is to me to 
talk to Bueh old friends. I shall get up early loo, 
and see that you have breakfast before you begin. 
I shall make your tea; I am sure uo our.* else could 
make it, nicely enough.” 
Darcy Lonsdale told her laughingly that, she 
would spoil him; and both gentlemen were sur¬ 
prised to hnd that they had been talking tor an 
hour Instead of a few minutes. 
They rose when the first bell rang lor dinner, 
and Lady chevenlx, looking al. Felix, asked him — 
“ How Is Evelyn Lester ?” 
lie told her that she was not looking cither 
bright or well lately; and then they separated. 
Long arter father and son had left her, Hie beau¬ 
tiful wouiau sal with happy brooding light in her 
eyes, and a smile like summer sunshine on her 
lips. And when she rose to return to her visitors 
she murmured to herself— 
“ At last, my love, at last!” 
(To he comilined.) 
SMALL POINTS OF TABLE ETIQUETTE, 
There are a few points ot table etiquette not 
directly connected with the giving and receiving 
of dinners and teas, but which are of i he first Im¬ 
portance, as they concern individual behavior. 
We would be Inclined to tbiuk every one acquaint¬ 
ed with them, and allusion to them a matter of 
supererogation on our pail,, If It, were not that we 
see them so frequently violated. Those of our 
readers who arc, or' have always been familiar 
with them, will perhaps pardon our speaking ot 
them for the sake of those tv ho are not. 
We do not expect to see these gaucheries In the 
best society; but there are many people perfectly 
well-fitted for the best society but for Ignorance 
concerning these things, which although trifles In 
themselves, are of such Infinite Import,anee on the 
whole. For Instance, where all the requirements 
are not fully known, if a general cessation of con¬ 
versation should suddenly supervene upon the 
serving ol the soup, would there be silence In the 
place? Not at all; the gap would be filled with a 
continuous bubbling sound irotn the mouth ot 
some one or other unlucky wight, whose mother 
never taught him to take soup properly, and who 
Is possibly disturbing and disgusting all those that 
do better and who know how easily the trouble 
might lie avoided, Soup is to bo taken from the 
side of the spoon, not from the tip, ana It is not to 
he Bucket 1 In, but. the spoon being slightly tilled 
It Is rather poured Into t he mouth than otherwise, 
the slightest silent Inhalation being sufficient for 
the rest. 
Another generally neglected obligation Is that 
ot spreading butter on one’s bread as It lies on 
one’s plate, or but slightly lifted at one end from 
the plate; It Is very frequently buttered In the 
air, bitten la gouges, and still held In the face and 
eyes of the tabl? with the marks of the teeth on It. 
'Hits Is certainly not altogether pleasant, and It Is 
better to cut It a bit at a time, alter buttering it, 
and put piece by piece In the mouth with one’s 
linger and thumb. 
Let us mention a few things concerning t he eat¬ 
ing of which there Is sometimes doubt. A cream 
cake and anything of similar nature should be 
eaten with knife and tork, never bitten. Aspara¬ 
gus—which should always be Hewed on bread or 
toast, so as to absorb superfluous moisture—may 
betaken from the linger and thumb; if Ills fit. to 
be set before you the whole of It may he. eaten. 
Peas and beans, as we all know, require the fork 
only. Potatoes, u mashed, should be mashed with 
the fork. Green corn should he eaten from the 
cob. hut It must lie held with a single hand. 
Celery, cresses, radishes, and all that sor t of 
thing arc, of course, to be eaten front the fingers; 
1 he salt should he laid upon one s plate, not upon 
the doth. Fish Is lo he eaten with i he fork, with¬ 
out the assistance of the knife; a bit of bread In 
the left hand sometimes helps one to master a re¬ 
fractory morsel. 
berries, of course, are to be eaten with a spoon. 
In England they are served with their hulls on, 
and three or lour are considered an ample quan¬ 
tity. But Mien lu England they are many times 
the size of ours. 'There they take the big berry by 
the stem, dip It Into powdered sugar, and eat It as 
we do the linulp or radish. It Is not proper to drink 
with a spoon In the cup; nor should one, by tile 
way, ever quite drain the cup or glass. Spoons 
are sometimes used with puddings, but forks arc 
the bel ter style. A spoon should never he turned 
over In the mouth. Ladles have frequently an af¬ 
fected way ot holding the knife half way down lls 
length, ns If It, were too big lor their little hands; 
but. this is as awkward a. way as ll ts weak; the 
knife should be grasped freely by the handle only, 
the forefinger being the only one to touch the 
blade, and that only along the back of tlic blade 
at Its root, and no further down. 1 n sending one’s 
plate to be helped a second time, one should re¬ 
tain one’s knire and fork, for the convenience ol 
waiter and carver. At the conclusion of a course, 
where they have been used, knife and fork should 
be laid side by side on the plate—never crossed; 
the old custom ,of crossing them was In obedience 
to an auelent religious formula. The servant 
should offer every thing at the left of the guest, 
that the guest may he at liberty to use the right 
hand. Jf one has been given a napkin-ring, H is 
necessary to told one’s napkin and use the ring; 
Otherwise the napkin should be lett unfolded. 
One’s teeth arc not to be picked ut table; but If ll 
Is impossible to hinder it., it should be done behind 
the napkin. One may pick a hone at the table, 
but, as with eoru, only one hand Is allowed to 
touch ll,; yet one can usually get enough from It. 
with knife and fork, which ts certainly the more 
elegant way ol doing ; to t ake her teet h to it gives 
a lady the look of caring a little too much ror the 
pleasures of the table; one Is, however, on no ac¬ 
count to suck one’s lingers alter It. 
Wherever there Is any doubt as to the best way 
to do a thing, It is wise to tolluw that which Is the 
most rational, and that will almost Invariably be 
round to be the proper etiquet to. 1 here Is a reason 
tor every thing In polite usage; thus the reason 
why one does not blow a thing to cool It, is not 
only that it Is an Inelegant and vulgar action In¬ 
trinsically. but because Is may be offensive to 
others—Can not help being so Indeed; and It, more¬ 
over, Implies haste, which, whether resulting from 
greediness or from a desire to get away, Is equally 
rude and objectionable. Every thing else may be 
as easily traced to ltd origin in the HLanrt becoming. 
if, to conclude, one seats one’s-soir properly at 
table, and takes reasou into account, one will do 
tolerably well, one must not pull ono’H chair too 
closely to the table, lor the natural result of that 
Is the inability to use one’s knife and fork without 
Inconveniencing one’s neighbors; the elbows are 
to be held, well In and close to one's side, which 
cannot be done It the chair Is too near the hoard. 
One must not. lie or lean along t he table, nor rest 
one s arms upon It. Nor Is one to touch any of the 
dishes; If a member of the family, one can exer¬ 
cise all the duties of hospitality through servants, 
and wherever there are servants neither family 
nor guests are to pass or help from any dish. 
Among the English nobility an old custom has 
been lately revived In which at a certain point of 
the dinner the servants are dismissed and the 
ladles of the family fake their place. Tiffs Is very 
pretty for a scenic occasion; but It does not suit 
i lie luxury and ease of modem limes, and Is a 
reminiscence, however hospitable, of the old de¬ 
gradation of women that will meet with no wide 
favor. Meanwhile in America, destitute or knights 
or castles, there is no excuse for ll whatever.— 
llurner'a isctznr. 
Prince Battcuberg of Germany has abandoned 
his scruples relative to the acceptance of the throne 
of Bulgaria and UJs election is regarded as certain. 
MAGAZINES. 
LimNCOTT’s Maoazine for April has the follow¬ 
ing attracHve table of contents; A visit to the 
Shrines of Old Vrtglnla. Illustrated. David H. 
Strother <“ Porte Crayon”); English vignettes. 
Ilustrated. JI, lames, Jr; Women's Husbands.— 
II. The False Prince. Part 1; Folk-Songs. W. 
W. Young; Mollere. The Life and the Legend. 
1 ilustrated. J Brander M atthews; Trees in the city. 
Edgar Fawcett; The Hoosters at Home. Mary 
Dean; Through Winding Ways. Chaps. XXVIII. 
XXXI. Ellen W. Olney; Ancient Decorative Stuffs. 
H. M. Benson; our Beaux, Sarah Winter Kel¬ 
logg ; My Village in lire South. Part II. Annie Por¬ 
ter; A Bit of Old Satsunia. William Elliot Griffis; 
A Lady’s Life in Brazil. SI. C. W; Our Slonthly 
Gossip; Literature of the Day. 
THE TOOTH MARKET. 
Americans of old families are peculiarly light, 
wiry and well knit. Chinese art. and Egyptian 
monumental sculptures show that the long-con¬ 
tinued civilizations were perpetuated by just such 
slight bodily frames. Redundancy is no evidence 
of endurance. Our sinewy outlines are a proof 
not of feebleness, but of refinement and vigor. 
There Is no physical deterioration among Ameri¬ 
cans. Nevertheless, our teeth, according to sta¬ 
tistics, are eight times the worst In the world. 
This Is th© result of pure and unadulterated Igno¬ 
rance. Books, newspapers and magazines have 
plenty of dissertations on the care of the physi¬ 
que-on exercise, respiration, care of the feet, 
best way to walk, proper quality of clothing, 
treatment of the eyes, physiological arrangement 
of houses, and so on -but nothlug is said about the 
teeth. Ignorance Is never bliss. From lack of 
knowledge on this subject everywhere are seen 
persons whose shrivelled or distorted and expres¬ 
sionless mouths betray the absence ot natural 
teeth. Columbia might be represented as it lady with 
false teeth. 'I Ills state ot things Implies awful 
suffering. H implies pr emature old ago, fractured 
and neeracoBcd jaws, tumors, abscesses, neural¬ 
gia, tlcffoloureux. 
There are In the Union about sixteen thousand 
dentists, of whom only about two thonsand are of 
Ike slightest benefit to their patients, ignorance 
permits fourteen thousand men to live among us 
by uselessly torturing their fellow-beings. They 
are worse than Macbeth; they murder more than 
Innocent sleep -good temper, beauty, youth and 
heallh. They should write over their doors. 
“ Cease to laugh, all ye who enter here 1” for those 
wini walk In funereal gloom with pule and anxious 
faces through their portals will come forth tooth¬ 
less or soon to be so.” 
1 he dentists who advertise false teeth at ten 
dollars a set pract ise horrible barbarisms. All the 
appliances of dental science do not save as many 
priceless organs In ten year's as these miscreants 
sacrifice In six months with their had tooth-fillings, 
tooth- pullings and filings. Notwithstanding all that 
has been done to stay the waste ot tooth, there are 
as many destroyed this year as there ware last, and 
more dentists. I know a woman who had twenty 
teeth extracted by a country dcnUst. because they 
were somewhat loose, and raise ones substituted. 
The timid and uninformed are swindled out of 
their teeth by mercenary wretches who persuade 
their pa tie i its to submit to permanent Injury and 
lasting mutilation, when (he hand or conserva¬ 
tive skill would do them abiding good. 
The ignorant are persuaded mat thetr teeth are 
worth about titty cents apiece, and that It Is an 
act ol bravery to have one pulled out. To have a 
tooth pulled out Is as monstrous as to have an eye 
pulled out. A good dentist will never extirpate a 
toolli. Were all den lists able and conscientious, 
there would be a panic in the tooth market. False 
teet h do not supply (he loss of real ones—do not 
restore the original contour or the lace nor the 
ability to speak correctly and agreeably: a false 
tooth can be detected as far as It can be seen. 
Uncleaulluesb Is the main cause of tooth decay. 
Food acidities if left in the mouth, and there are 
acids and alkalies lu our food and In allopathic 
medicines that go on the principle, You eat me 
and I eat you. Where the enamel Is cracked by 
extremes of licat. and cold lu the food, or where 
the teeth have never been perfectly matured, aud 
there are tuluutc crevices In the enamel, then acids 
will penetrate to the limy interior of the teeth and 
destroy them, unless prevented by perfect cleanli¬ 
ness, If tartar’ accumulates on the teeth for hick 
or brushing, ll causes recession of the gums and 
loosening ol the teeth. Jt must he removed by 
some sharp Instrument. Dentifrices that will re¬ 
move tartar will remove teeth. All liquid den¬ 
tifrices devour the teeth. The white-ashes of 
a wood-fire gently rubbed on the teeth with a 
small stick will remove yellow streaks. Friction 
ot the brush, cold water and a little soap are all 
that are necessary to greatly Improve the worst of 
teeth and gums. 
We do not belong to the rodent species; our teeth, 
once broken or lost, do not grow again. Still, 
let all who have detective teeth hope, for their 
teeth may he lu a measure restored. Nutrition 
goes on In every living structure. The crystals of 
the enamel are living structures. The teeth are 
subject to the law of waste and supply, as are 
other organs. Poor teeth will Improve with a good 
diet. Toothache is orten rollowed by health of 
tooth and nerve. Juicy beef aud mutton, eggs, 
oysters, milk, and the like, have good tooth-ma- 
terlal; starch, oil and sugar have tt not. 'The min¬ 
eral element that sustains die hard portlonsot the 
teeth exists largely lu the hull of grain. It out- 
food eoutolus plenty of this earthy matter, our 
teeth will not be .-.oil and chalky, hut denso and 
capable of resisting decay, and built up atom by 
atom Like hard stone; and will so remain until 
supplies are diminished. Americans food to ani¬ 
mals or throw away the part of their wheat which 
contains tire tooth-element. The teeth of a for¬ 
eign peasant that have been built on black bread 
will break down on a diet of pork, pickles, pre¬ 
serves, pastry and superfine Hour.— LrppinwU'e jOr 
April, 
