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Show 5 v f'". f . . T ff, "Vv- r r rr -,r F , r; v v li li iiii iio h y.&?.-t?l' VAWVfxVi 1 r- yr,-, r.., -,- rji re' J H; Jt ti "jii iir "Li-ii ,'B Yi il - .7 -1-. l. ' : :. - J decisive!?-. "She Eeeir.s languid ad heavy. The air here is very relixiag during the hot months; I think I ghall take her to Scotland." "Oh, not to Scotland poor child the journey would be so dreadfully fatiguing!" pleads Ruby, as she thinks with consternation of the impossibility impossibil-ity of inducing her mother to permit her ta go so far from home for already al-ready her quick brain has formed a plan for following the children. "Yes, it might be trying for so young a child," agrees Mr. Champley thoughtfully. thought-fully. "In that case I must be content con-tent with the moors or the North Devon coast." "I should just keep her at home, and send her dawn by the sea every morning morn-ing sea-air is always bracing," observes ob-serves Ruby, with a feeble hope that her advice may he taken. "Mudmouth is the reverse of brae-it-g," corrects her companion decidedly; decided-ly; "besides, it is not only the air the children want a complete chan;e." "Of course you know best," admits Ruby, with a reluctant and despondent sigh; "but I always think that children chil-dren are happier at home than anywhere any-where else." "That depends," remarks Robert Champley vaguely, and with a sharp sigh. "Oh, yes, of course!" agrees Ruby eagerly; then after a moment she continues con-tinues slowly, "However trustworthy servants may be, they can't understand under-stand everything." "Do you mean that the children are in any way neglected?" he asks quickly. "Oh dear, no!" laughs Ruby, with a playful head-shake. "I am sure their nurse Is most attentive from all accounts ac-counts but you ought not, for instance, in-stance, to allow her to choose their clothes. Of course she has no idea how to dress them how should she, poor woman!" "They seem very sensibly clothed to me," answers R.obert Champley, but in rather a dubious tone in fact a tone open to conviction. "As long as they are warm and comfortable, the cut isn't of much importance." "But, my dear Mr. Champley, how can poor Meg be comfortable in a dress that allows of. no free play of the limbs? Children ought never to be hampered by their clothing." "Is Meg hampered?" "Almost tortured, I should think, in her last dress. As for Bob, he ought to be dressed sailor fashion now." "Dear me what am I to do?" asks Robert Champley, half-mocking, half in earnest. "I tell you what," says Ruby suddenly sudden-ly "I will make clothes for each of them as a pattern. Now please don't protest it will only be like the fun of dressing dolls to me." Of course Mr. Champley does protest, pro-test, but, as usual, he protests in vain; and when he takes his departure from the Tvrilderness that evening he finds himself weighed down by one more obligation to Ruby V.'ilden. As tor Ruby, she is in great spirits the only thing which troubles her in the matter Is her total incapacity either to cut out or to make the clothes in question, seeing see-ing that in reality she knows far less how children should be dressed than the nuHee whoso tastes she has been criticising. (To be Continued.) CHAPTER VI. Shell is in the now almost disused Btillroom of the Wilderness, dusting delicate china tea-cups with a clean glass-cloth. She is singing at the top of her fresh young voice, as she usually usual-ly dees when working alone. "Oh, here you are at list!" cries Ruby, entering the room with a victimized vic-timized air. "I have been searching all over the house for you. Yvho ever would dream of finding yon down here at the end of this long passage?" "Anybody with an atom of sense," answers Shell bluntly. "If you insist upon asking about fifty people to a garden-party, with only two servants, some one must give them a helping hand." "Absurd afternoon-tea is no trouble; trou-ble; but if you choose to encourage their laziness of course they are willing will-ing enough to let you!" Shell makes no reply, hut placidly proceeds with her dusting. "Vi and I want you up-stairs," continues con-tinues Ruby in a different tone. "We have decided to wear those muslins we had for the flower-show, only they want altering a little, and some new laces tacking on." "All right only I can't come just now," assents Shell readily "the flowers flow-ers have to be gathered and arranged yet; and cook is steeped to her eyebrows eye-brows in cakes I promised to help her as soon as I had finished these." "Oh, but the dresses must be done first! I'll gather the flowers if necessary," neces-sary," says Ruby in the voice of a martyr, "even though going out in the heat always does give me a frightful headache." Shell reluctantly complies, and is occupied for nearly an hour, then having hav-ing still many household matters on her mind, she rises to take her departure. de-parture. "Don't go yet; you know how I abhor ab-hor this sort of work," said Ruby sharply her only work so far has consisted con-sisted in watching Shell's deft needle darting to and fro. "But, Ruby, I must the tennis-courts tennis-courts want marking; and I must keep my promise to cook." "Oh, we can manage now quite well!" remarks Violet cheerily. "By the way, Shell, what are you going to wear?" looking up with sudden interest. in-terest. "I? Oh, I don't know I, haven't thought!" returns Shell carelessly. "My white serge will do as well as anything at any rate it is ready." "Don't wear stuff, it looks so hot; besides, that serge looks horrid since it was washed," objects Vi, who likes Shell sufficiently to wish that she should appear at her best. "My dear Vi, don't waste advice on Shell you know how self-opinionated she is. Besides" with a slight upraising uprais-ing of her eyebrows "she is such a child, it really doesn't matter much what she wears." "Just so," assents Shell, shutting the door behind her; but, all the same, she goes away feeling rather sore at heart, for there is no small amount of contempt con-tempt in Ruby's tone. Though her eldest sister has assigned her age as a reason for her dress not mattering, she knows full well that the tone also insinuates a vast want of personal attractions at-tractions too. Tet, if she only knew it, she has a charm all her own the charm of a genial spirit and a warm impulsive heart, which peeps out of her clear gray-green eyes, and lingers amidst the dimples of her crimson lips. All that long summer afternoon there is no thought of self in the girl's conduct. She flits about, finding footstools foot-stools and seats for old ladies, getting pins and fresh flowers for girls who have come imperfectly provided, and generally making herself useful. "When will you be ready for tennis?" ten-nis?" asks Robert Champley, who has been watching her narrowly, though unseen, for the past ten minutes. "I am not going to play," answers Shell brightly, as she hurries across the lawn with a sunshade for an old lady who has left her own at home, and now finds herself incommoded by the ardent gaze of King Sol. "But everybody says you play so well; and yet I have never seen you touch a racket," he urges, with a smile, on her return. "Perhaps that is how I keep my reputation," laughs Shell gaily. "No but, really, I like to watch good play; you might be obliging," pleads her companion. Truth to tell, he is beginning to take a deep interest In Shell, probably owing to the fact that she seems to take no interest whatever in him. "Well, I will be," responds Shell, with a curious little smile; and then, walking straight up to an exceedingly pretty girl dressed in pale pink, she says gravely, "Nora dear, Mr. Champley Champ-ley is most anxious to meet with some one who plays tennis rea'.'y well, so I thought I couldn't do bettor than bring him to you. Mr. Champley Miss Nora Fret well;" and with a l:tt;e nod she proceeds jtlacitlly on her way, having so disposed o her cavalier. Five minute.-, later she is accosted by Ted. "Isn't it a jolly afternoon?" be begins. be-gins. "Yes, only rather warm," agre:. Shell, pushing her sailor hat a little farther off her brow. "Come into the shade and let me fan you," suggests Ted coaxingly. "How very kind!" scoffs Shell. "But I think I won't accept it sounds so much nicer than it really is. Fanning only makes one hotter; and the midges are swarming in the shade." "It seems impossible ever to say or suggest the right thing to you," says Ted with boyish impatience. "If I have been rude I am very sorry," Shell returns thoughtfully; "but all the same it is true, you know. Fanning only cools one for the moment, mo-ment, and one is ten times hotter afterwards." af-terwards." As she speaks she saunters on a few steps by his side, that she may not appear too pointedly unsociable. unso-ciable. "By-f he-way, I had almost forgotten," forgot-ten," remarks Ted, laughing "Bob and Meg charged me with a commission. commis-sion. I am entrusted with a mysterious mysteri-ous packet, which I faithfully promised prom-ised to deliver into your own hands;" and from his pocket he produces a small and remarkably clumsy paper parcel tied up with a bit of colored wool. "I think there must be some mistake," mis-take," says Shell, looking at the proffered prof-fered offering superciliously; "they probably meant it for Ruby." "On the contrary, I was particularly cautioned not to entrust it to your sister," laughs Ted. "I believe it is of an edible nature, and they feared the temptation might be too great." Shell takes the packet reluctantly, and, standing still for a moment in the pathway, cautiously opens it, displaying dis-playing to view some half-dozen chocolate choco-late creams of a decidedly crushed and not very tempting appearance. For a moment a beautiful and gentle smile lights up her every feature; then she remembers with a start the part she is acting, and asks scornfully "What on earth induced them to send me these things?" "They probably thought you would appreciate them poor children!" answers an-swers Ted, rather hotly. "They got a box as a present thi-i morning, and wouldn't give me any peace until I consented to bring yoa over some. I wish" indignantly "that I had thrown them away on the read." "It certainly would have been wiser," retorts Shell, as she ruthlessly tosses the small bundle away amidst a clump of shrubs. "Children have such odd fancies." "I don't call that an odd fancy I call it a generous impulse," corrects Ted, stolidly. "By the way" looking at her keenly "shall I tell them the fate of their poor little present." "As you please," answers Shell carelessly; care-lessly; and then, knowing the pain that would he inflicted by such a revelation, reve-lation, she adds quickly "No, I think perhaps you had better not. Some people peo-ple imagine that children are sensitive, sensi-tive, and I have no wish to wound their feelings, in case they possess any." "In case they possess any?" repeats Ted, positively flushing with mingled anger and contempt. "You must be very dense if you have not yet discovered dis-covered that those children are of a keenly nervous temperament." "I know I am dense," admits Shell, with not the faintest show of annoyance annoy-ance or resentment. "As for children, I don't profess to understand them probably because I have no sympathy with them." Ted walks on beside her in thoughtful thought-ful silence. It seems to him a sad pity that Shell, who used to be such a genial, sunny little creature, should have changed into the hard callous being be-ing now talking to him. He would like to account for the phenomenon in some way, and is contemplating the possibility of asking her if she has been crossed in love, when their tete-a-tete is cut short by Mrs. Vt'ihlen. "Shell dear," says that lady, in a troubled tone, "I wish you would run in and see to the making of the coffee it is sure not to be properly cleared if you are not there. Mr. Chample will excuse you, I am sure he knows that we cannot afford efficient servants." ser-vants." "I am only too delighted to find that England still possesses young ladies who are not above making themselves useful," answers Ted, in a bantering, teasing tone. "There is nothing I admire ad-mire so much as domesticity in a woman. Most of our girls are getting so blue that it will be a blue look out for their husbands." "Yes, ijich f'!," murmurs Mrs. Wil-!"i, Wil-!"i, as Shell, with a little toss of h'-r 'lead, walks away. Ittar SIi'.-!l is mo-t useful not very ornamental, but very t ! .- cfu 1 t h o r o i ; g k i y d o rn e-s t : e a ; e d , an d such a ftitie, kind creature. I often -vonrler how I s'.uhl get on without tier." In the meantime Ruby, at the other side of the fawn, is lis-enir.g to a piece ut inte'.liger.ce which caus-g ter cheeks to turn raie, wki:.-t she f.;u: rs her fan with increased nervous cr.'rgy. "Yon think the deir cl.ii ir"n need .Lar.re?'' fc is saying in a tone of i ewiidetmer:'. "I t!o se!:t tW were hiking r: ma: i.a ;.iy and the pets "M--g is tu: the father |