the door to call the witnesses that they might see Willis Newell sign the instrument. They came in, and were greeted by a smile of recognition from their old friend; the pen was placed in his hand, a change passed over his face, his fingers relaxed their grasp, the inky pen dropped from them, and left its traces upon the snowy sheet-the will was, and would remain forever, unsigned; Willis Newell was dead, and Cyn was left a richer widow than at Burton's death. Lucky Cyn! GLIMPSE XXIII.-CYN ARRIVES. or rather she felt a recoil from them, as if they had been dipped in blood. "Mrs. Newell, please relock your trunk; the porter will remove it to the sidewalk, and you must follow it at once." "What indignity is this? I do not understand it at all. I have come to nurse my husband, and was about to go down to his room. I thought it might alarm him were I to appear with my wraps on; that it would seem more natural and homelike were I to go in as though I had been here all the time; one has to be very careful about a sick person's nerves. How is he quiet this morn "But we "Very," answered Mrs. Otis dryly. are wasting words; you must leave at once; so long as Willis Newell's body lies in this house you cannot remain under the same roof." It was the morning after Willis Newell's deathing?" and the body was sleeping in a casket in room No. 32 as a strikingly handsome woman was ushered by an attentive servant (attaché is the thing nowadays) into the public parlor. This woman had traveled all night, but her face was fresh and self-sufficient, though she had not quite decided upon her line of action, and thought to rest here a moment and think. Later she stood before the desk, ordered a room, gave directions for having her trunk sent up, and then registered her name, "Mrs. Willis Newell." The colored porter took the trunk upward, and as Mrs. Newell passed out into the corridor the obsequious clerk allowed his feelings to come to the surface, and his lip curled with genuine scorn, for the whole story was well known at the hotel. Calling a boy to take his place for a moment, he hastened to inform the landlady of the latest arrival. Meanwhile Cyn was adorning herself in her room, thinking to take her husband's weakened heart by storm with a sight of the beauty that he once loved; then there would be doctors present of high professional reputation and perhaps of wealth, and one never knows, you know, what may happen! Stranger things have been than that. Just as she was about to descend to her husband's room to charm him into forgiving her and bequeathing her his wealth, the door opened and the landlady entered with a stern face, and followed by the porter, who had but just left the room. Cyn was puzzled, but with her queenly graciousness advanced cordially to greet Mrs. Otis. That lady was blind to Cyn's outstretched baby fingers, "You have no right to turn any traveler out of this hotel that chooses to stay and pays his bill. I will pay you in advance, if you wish." Mrs. Otis made a gesture of repulsion as Mrs. Newell . offered her money; the porter obeyed her motion, and without waiting for Cyn to lock the trunk, he had done so and tossed the key on the table beside Mrs. Newell's bonnet and gloves. Mrs. Otis convinced Cyn that in defiance of custom, law, or precedent, for once she should expel a traveler from the house, and Cyn was forced to leave with meagre information as to how or when her husband had died. Legally, perhaps, Mrs. Otis was wrong; in fact I know that she was; but morally she was right, and she has always had my greatest respect for that act. Cyn would never make any ado about it, for she was too shrewd to publish her own disgrace; but through some mysterious channel the news reached her country home before she returned. The funeral was at the "Church of the Messiah," and there at last Cyn forced her way into the position of first mourner; she knew that Jacob Newell would not cause a scene at church; so here she was at last in the blackest of crape and the whitest of caps bewitchingly attractive, and won much sympathy, as she was afterward pointed out upon the boat and railroad-train, as a recently bereaved widow, whose husband was being transported to the restful, homelike cemetery of his native village. "How thankful I am that he did not succeed in signing that will!" thought Cyn, as the train neared the station where she had given him his death-blow. Are you haunted ever, Madame Cyn? GLIMPSE XXIV. THE BELLS TALK OF CYN. "HAVE you seen Cyn since her return from New York, Baby?" asked Fred, a few weeks after the events recorded in the last chapter. "Yes, I called upon Amy and thereby saw her mother, and one could not say of her that she was not much depressed nor very much elated,' as Dr. Knap very dryly remarked of old Mr. Gray's widow, for Cyn did seem excited with joy; I suppose because she was not cut off by the will. But how was that, Fred? I have always understood that a man could not ignore his wife's claim to her dower'; that the mighty arm' of the law gave a married woman certain claims upon her husband's estate that could not be disputed." "So the law does in our State; though you women," with a roguish look at his sister, "will persist in asserting that estate laws discriminate in favor of the male survivor; first, then, Willis Newell owned no 'real estate'; secondly, the law in New York, as regards personal property, is different from ours; it is very different if a husband could legally will it away' from his wife at his pleasure. Here the wife is entitled to the 'profit' of a one-third interest in all her husband's real estate during her life; if there are children, she has one-third of his 'personal' estate, and the children take the remainder; if there are no children, she has one-half the personal property, and his relatives the remainder. In New York, if there is no will, the widow first has two thousand dollars (if there is that amount) and one-half the remainder of the personal property. So notwithstanding the fact that Cyn does not deserve a farthing, she will have a handsome sum. Jacob Newell, of course, will have the remainder; I wish he were to have the whole; but no one can dispute Cyn's legal claim. We could wish that Willis might have lived until the divorce was decreed, or, better than that, that he might have been allowed to sign that will and thus have cut her off without a dollar." "I am very sorry for Amy; this disgraceful affair annoys her, and it will make honor-loving people shun her, lest the daughter should inherit the iniquity of the mother," said Baby thoughtfully. "No one of any judgment will ever suspect Amy of being like her mother; her very movements betray the honesty of thought that actuates them," exclaimed Fred hotly. Baby did not appear to notice this outburst of Fred's, but quietly continued her work and con. versation, gradually leading it from the Newells and Merediths, well knowing that to dwell upon the thoughts roused by these families was not healthy for either of them. Fred and Baby still continued to live quietly at the old homestead, though Fred occasionally threatened to go West and establish a branch business of his brother George's house in New York, an art-decorative establishment. Baby long ago decided to remain Baby Bell during life, and though she wore no weeds nor rode in any of the funeral carriages, yet there was one that read her heart as she stood with the neighbors in a group and watched the bearers as they lowered into its narrow bed all that was mortal of Willis Newell; One that saw all and comforted the sad and lonely heart in his own tender way. If Fred thought of marriage, for some reason his thoughts were well concealed from the world. Baby alone knew of his secret and he guessed at her knowledge only by her tender avoidance of anything in connection therewith that might pain him. George had a growing family and almost at all times of the year some of his children might be seen at Aunt Baby's, or riding to and from the city with that best and most indulgent of uncles— Fred Bell. GLIMPSE XXV.-SETTLING THE ESTATE. VAINLY did the Newell family regret that Willis was not permitted to consummate that will; it was so ordered by a higher power whose ways are not as ours. It does not accord with our ideas of justice, that the woman who by her cruelty had wounded him unto death, the woman that had stood ready to secure a divorce from him by any means, however disgraceful or slanderous, that the difficulties of the case might demand, should now stand in as favorable a position as regarded the estate as the bereaved widow only should. MY PLANTS. The divorce had, fortunately for her, not even come to trial; Mr. Newell had died before the completion of his design, and in consequence Cyn was a happy widow. Jacob Newell being the only brother, and the conjugal difficulties of Willis and Cyn having been brought to the knowledge of the court, Jacob secured letters of administration upon his brother's estate in disregard of the widow's claim to that position. Newell's partner, Mr. Ketchum, meanwhile had not been idle; from the beginning of his partner's illness the worst had been predicted; so, with a dishonest hand, he had been expertly examining the books and placing them in order for the inspection that would likely soon be ordered. Well (for himself) did he perform his work, and when Jacob Newell came to examine papers and accounts, the figures unblushingly asserted that each partner's stock had depreciated nearly onehalf, despite the fact that heretofore both parties had represented their business as unusually flourishing. Jacob Newell was morally positive that the estate was being grossly swindled, yet he was without proofs such as would oblige the thief to disgorge. There was but one consolation in this inevitable disappointment, and that was, that Cyn's portion was just so much smaller. All of Willis's friends were quite resigned to Ketchum's act, as it was very bitter to them that Cyn should be benefited by his death. Cyn, of course, heard of all the disparaging comments made upon her and her marriages by the neighbors, and, loving admiration and approbation, she sought to dispel the unfavorable opinions of her neighbors by erecting, in the rural cemetery where his body had been interred, a marble shaft to the memory of "My Loved Husband"; a shaft that attracted as much attention in its lonely grandeur amid the plain headstones that marked the other graves as Cyn herself did when in comparison with her humble neighbors. But the true-hearted friends of Willis Newell were not to be blinded to Cyn's deadly sins by the gleaming of that highly-polished shaft. The one shaft, amid acres of ordinary headstones, attracted as much attention as Cyn desired, though of a different nature. Some said it pointed upward to heaven as a warning, that from thence Cyn's punishment should surely descend! (To be concluded.) NOVELTIES IN FANCY-WORK. BY MARIAN FORD. In the last number the "Italian double-stitch" and the "parted cross-stitch" were carefully explained and illustrated, and full directions were given for making those extremely useful and pretty articles-chair-covers. In the present article we resume the subject of the last paper, and give descriptions of many other useful and tasty articles. And first, an article is described closely related to the last. CHAIR-STRIPES. Embroidered chair-stripes are always in so much demand, that the beautiful design illustrated in Fig. 28 will no doubt be greatly admired. The foundation may be rep, cloth, felt, velvet, linen, mummy-cloth, or sateen, the embroidery being executed in satin-stitch and stem-stitch. The shade of dull red, known as Pompeian red, forms a very effective background. Work the leaves, stems, and tendrils in shaded olive-green, the flowers green, with shaded purple border, the stamens and pistils brown, with a yellow ground, and the buds white, with a few green stitches. The same selection of colors may also be used on a black, light-gray, or écru ground. This design is equally handsome for mantel and curtain lambrequins, also for the plush and felt bands used to trim portières. MACRAME LACE. Many persons who wish to make the fashionable and pretty Macrame lace will be glad to have directions for manufacturing at home a "pillow," which is an excellent substitute for those sold at the stores. This may be done by covering a large brick with flannel and list, and then putting over it an outer cover of a dark material, or by making a case of strong linen, nine inches long, cutting two circles, five inches in diameter, and sewing together like a bolster. This must be filled very full and firmly with hay, and then supplied with an outside cover of cashmere. The threads are fastened to the pillow by winding them around large pins, which are thrust firmly into the cushion. The materials generally used are Italian twine, or thick thread, but sometimes silk is employed in making trimmings for neck-ties, aprons, etc. Fig. 29 illustrates a pattern of Macrame lace in two shades of silk. It is commenced with twenty double threads, eight dark and twelve light, and worked as shown in illustration. Made in silk, it is intended for dresses, but the same design in twine forms an extremely pretty trimming for chairs, foot-stool, mantel lambrequins, etc. An exquisite table lately shown the writer was covered with crimson plush, and trimmed with a border of Macrame lace half a yard deep, lined with some crimson wool material the same shade as the plush. The pattern illustrated in Fig. 29 would be a very beautiful decoration for the "clover-leaf" tables now so fashionable. DARNED NET. Fresh patterns for darning net are always eagerly sought. Figs. 30 and 31 illustrate simple and pretty designs for insertion, and Fig. 32 for edging. When strong net is used as a foundation, darned with linen floss, this work is substantial enough to be used in children's dresses that must pass frequently through the wash. The insertion is often placed between clusters of tucks, but for very little children the entire dress is made of the darned net and worn over a colored slip. The insertion and the lace are also employed for trimming curtains. Not infrequently, especially when thick over-draperies are used, the whole curtain is made of the net, the insertion and the edging being darned directly upon the fabric. While the latest novelties in fancy-work of every description are eagerly sought by many, the large class who object to "new-fangled notions," and cling to their beloved knitting and crochet, ought not to be forgotten. Grandma, clicking her shining needles in her easy-chair, is no less pleased with a new pattern for a comfortable shawl than her golden-haired granddaughter with a fresh design for Kensington art-work or Macrame lace. Indeed, there are often hours that can be whiled away in knitting or crochet-work, when tired eyes and weary mind would be unequal to the task of watching the bright colors and following the intricate patterns of embroidery and Macrame. |