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Show ror that extended at the other side of the room into aa indefinite perspective of onyx tables,1 stands of ferns, Japanese screens and India hangings. "Six-and-thirty and why should one be compelled to give up all the sweetness of life at six-and-thirty? I'm sure I don't look a day over thirty; and Algy Vane must be that at least!"" Mrs. Blythe was a very pretty woman not the bud, but the full blown rose a plump, dimpled, peachy cheeked matron, ma-tron, who knew exactly how to make the most of all her middle aged advantages. She had married Maj. Mortlake Blythe at 17, and he had left her a widow at seven-and-twenty. "I shall never be such a fool as to marry again!" said Mrs. Blythe. For the major had by no means been perfection. He had left her just enough, by dint of strict economy, to livo upon, especially as her only child had been taken to "bring up" by a quiet Quaker couple, the major's relatives. And until now Mrs. Blytho had adhered resolutely to her decision. But Algernon Vane was a royally lmndaotno fellow, and tho pretty widow was but human, and she had scribbled "Rosamond Vane," "Mrs. Algernon Vane," over and over again in her blotting blot-ting book, and she had treasured up a flower ho had worn in his buttonhole, and she had corresponded with him during dur-ing the winter he had spent in Bermuda, writing sprightly and amusing letters, with a semi-tone of seriousness underlying under-lying all their sparkling gossip. " "He likes mo a little now," said the widow, "and I'm determined he sliall like me a good deal more. I'm tired of thia solitary life; I'm tired of counting every penny half a dozen times before I spend it. Algy is independently rich, and he is my beau ideal of a man. With him I do believe I could be quite, quite happy. Ho don't know about Lydia, but of course that would be no objection. Uncle Joshua and Aunt Rebecca will keep her. Dear me, dear me! she must be growing to be a big girl now," and Mrs. Blythe shuddered at the idea. At this moment the door flew open, and in burst a tall, dusty, disheveled young girl some half a head taller than Mrs. Blythe herself, with tho white capped maid following helplessly behind. "Please, ma'am," said the maid, "she wouldn't wait for me to take her card up." "Mamma, I'm Lydia!" cried the breathless breath-less apparition. "Little Liddy, mamma don't you remember? Tell that hateful hate-ful girl to go away! A card, indeed! Am I to send up cards to my own mo- ne -niss iyaiar x es, it is mine, ana I'm a thousand times obliged to you. 1 must have fastened it in very carelessly. And I value it very highly, too; it was a gift from my father." "Is it worth a gveat deal of money? asked Lydia, timidly lifting her sea blue eyes to his face. "About a hundred dollars, I suppose. "I wish it was mine," said Lydia. with a long sigh, as if she were thinking aloud. "Yours? Why, it isn't a lady s ornv ment." - 'Oh, not the pin!' Lydia hastened to explain, "but tho money the hundred dollars. Good-by! Here is the carnage waiting from Carhart court." "Will you let me drive you as far as Wotton farm?" asked the stranger, cour-r cour-r teously. ; ' And tired Lydia willingly acceded. The upshot was that when she entered her uncle's presence she gave hira a bank bill representing the price of the "prize colt." "Where did thee get this money, child?' solemnly asked Uncle Joshua. "I I borrowed it," confessed Lydia. "Don't ask me any more questions, uncle. un-cle. I'll pay it back if I have to pick blackberries at four cents a quart all summer." ; "I hope thee will give up this hoyden-ish hoyden-ish business of scampering about on horseback, Lydia, after this," severely spoke Aunt Rebecca. "But, aunt, the old fortune teller told me that my fortune would one day be made by a" Lydia stopped abruptly as she remembered remem-bered how tho diamond horsc3hoc had glittered on the floor at her feet that day. Her color rose, her heart beat. "Thee must remember, Lydia," admonished ad-monished Aunt Rebecca, "that all divin era and fortune tellers are snares of Satan." "Yes, Aunt Rebeoca," murmured the girl. But from that day an inscrutable change came over tho whole character of her life. ! ' The pleasant summer sunshine had faded out of the land. The Saratoga hotels were closed; gay Newport was deserted. de-serted. And Mrs. Blythe, sitting in the yellow light of her jonquil silk curtains, was smiling over a card which Matilda bad just brought in. "Dear Algyt" she murmured. "I knew he would come!" She glided into the white and gold drawing room, all gracious cordiality. "You recreant cavalierl" she smiled. "I've half a mind to scold you, and yet" ; , "Do I deserve that title?" Mr. Vane asked. "For you are the first person to whom I have told the great happiness of my life. Oh, I see you don't understand met Come out from behind the draperies, dra-peries, Lydia, and help me to explain." And Lydia, "blue eyed and fair tressed, came. "We are married, mamma," said Lydia, "Algy and I. And we sail for Europe in the Comandria, at noon. Won't you kiss me, mamma, and wish me joy?" Mrs. Blythe kissed Lydia and Algy, too and wished them joy. But it was the severest ordeal to which the ever had been put. A mother-in-law instead of a bride! This was hardly ' what she had looked forward to. But even in that trying moment she noticed tho glittering pin which fastened Lydia's lace bonnet strings a quaint device de-vice of tiny diamonds and remembered what the girl had once said about a fortune for-tune teller and a horseshoe. "Mamma didn't look quite pleased, Algy," said the bride, when they were back in the carriage, driving to tbe , steamer's wharf. "Do you suppose she is vexed because we didn't take her into our confidence?" "I dare say," remarked Mr. Vane, "tint no mother likes to lose her child so suddenly. Least of all, darling, so sweet a treasure as you." And neither of the two suspected what a poisoned dagger was that day rankling in the breast of Mrs. Ro3amond Blythe. Helen Forrest Graves in Philadelphia Saturday Nteht. . ther?' Mrs. Blythe stood appalled, in the soft yellow light streaming through the China Chi-na silk curtains. This fair haired, sunburned sun-burned young giantes with the peony cheeks and the big blue eyes, the ill fitting fit-ting gloves and faded cambric gown could it be possible that this was the "little Liddy" of ten years ago? Oh, if Mr. Vane should see her! The girl looked around like one who views the enchantments of a fairy palace. pal-ace. "Oh, mamma, how protty you are!" said she, "and what a lovely room I '.re you glad to see me, mamma, darlingr' "My dearest child," gasped the widow, "what has brought you here?" ' Lydia clasped her hands; her counte nance fell. "Mamma," said she, 'Tin the mott miserable creature in the world and I want a hundred dollars!" "Lydia! A hundred dollars!" "And you must let me have it!" vehemently ve-hemently went on Lydia. "I've killed Uncle Joshua's prize colt! That is, I didn't exactly do it myself; but I was riding Pretty Jane around the meadow, just for practice, and I forgot and loft Hie bars down, and the colt got out on 1 the railroad track, and the train came along, and oh I never can look Uncle Joshua in the face again, unless I have that hundred dollars to pay him! "I shall be able to earn plenty for myself my-self before long, mamma," she added, breathlessly, "for I can ride better than the woman in pink tarlatan and spangles who jumped through the hoops at tho circus. When the old gypsy told my fortune last year, at the county fair, she said a horseshoe would bring me luck some day; and I knew, of course, what she meant. So I've been practicing riding rid-ing ever since, whenever I could get away from Aunt Beck and Uncle Joshua, and" "Mrs. Dappleton Acues is in the drawing draw-ing room, ma'am," said the white capped cap-ped maid, appearing with an oxidized silver card receiver in her hand. And Mrs. Blythe checked her daughter's daugh-ter's confidences at once. "Lydia," cried she, "I'm sui prised at you! A great girl like you scuffling and romping around the country! Go back to Shady Plain by the very nest train, and try to behave moro like a ladj. Why, you must be fourteen at least!" "Seventeen, mamma," confessed the culprit. "But aren't you going to give me the hundred dollars?" "I havo not got a hundred cents!" impatiently im-patiently cried Mrs. Blythe. "And if I had, I wouldn't give it to you, you naughty, ill behaved, romping Yes, HatUda, tell Mrs. Dappleton Ames that I shall bo down directly, and bring some tea and buns for for Miss Blythe before tho next train goes." But when Mrs. Dappleton Ames had Dn'.shed her call, and Mrs. Blythe came back, the bird had flown. Lydia, deeply wounded and resentful, had promptly returned re-turned to Shady Plains. "That old gypsy must havo been a humbug, after all," thought the despairing despair-ing girl. "Oh.'what shall I say to Undo Joshua? Why was mamma so cold and cruol to ine? Oh, dear; I am very, very unhappy!" "Shady Plains!" shouted the conductor. And aa Lydia crept sorrowfully out ol tho train something bright, like a fallen drop of dew, scintillated on the floor at her feet. Sho stooped to pick it up. It was a diamond scarfpin in the shape of a horseshoe. "Squire Carhart'a company must have dropped it," said Lydia to herself. "Oh, how it sparkiest If it were only mine! For I'm sure it must be worth more than a hundred dollars." She glanced furtively at a tall, broad shouldered young fellow who had been seated in the train a few seats beyond her. "Ho never looked around," thought Lydia. "I'm glad of it, for he must have known that I had been crying. But I must give this back to him." With a light, swift step she hastened to overtake Squire Carhart's city guest. "Please, is this yours?" said she, holding hold-ing up the glittering half circle. "I found it on the car floor close to where you were sitting." He started and raised his hat. "It is.Mr Wotton's nieccisn't it?" said .HORSESHOE LUCK. "Am I too ld to think of a second marriage?' said Mrs. Blythe, looking .wistfully into, the elitterins: sheet of our- |