CHAPTER XXIII.

SUNSHINE.

It was a balmy day at the end of April, and in the great conservatory at Monckton Manor a little group of people had established themselves amongst the tall ferns and flowers, and girlish voices and laughter mingled with the plash of the fountain in the centre of the warm fragrant place.

Upon a cane lounge lay Oscar, white and thin, and frail of aspect, yet with something of the vigour and animation of returning health, which was very visible to those who had watched tremblingly beside him during the weeks of his tedious illness.

Sheila and May Lawrence sat near him, chatting with the ease and familiarity of an intimate friendship. It had long been May’s most cherished plan that so soon as Oscar should be strong enough for the move, he should be transported to Monckton Manor; and her mother had fallen in with the idea so soon as she had been assured on medical testimony that there was no fear of his bringing infection into the house.

So a fortnight ago the move had been made, and out in the pure fresh air of the country, away from the noise and bustle of the streets and a busy household, Oscar had made a fresh start, and had surprised everybody by the rapidity with which he gained ground.

For a week past he had almost lived in the conservatory, which, with its evenly regulated atmosphere, its sweet flower scents and the sensation of airiness and freshness, was almost like a new world to the invalid. He felt as though he were living out of doors “in Madeira,” as he would smilingly say; and then he and May would get Sheila to tell of beautiful Madeira, its rainbows, its flowers, its sunshine and long cloudless days; and Oscar would lie listening and dreaming, till he felt as though he were living the life there himself.

And Sheila, talking with absolute freedom to the brother with whom she had always shared her thoughts, and from whom she had never kept a secret, and to the girl-friend whom she now felt as though she had always known, soon talked away every bit of bitterness or vexation, and would enjoy a hearty laugh with her companions over the little weaknesses of her aunt, and think instead of her devotion to her daughter, which had led her into some comical errors. Since Sheila had learned to forget herself, to lose the sense of her own little wrongs, to feel everything merged in the great ocean of the unchangeable love which had wrapped her round in the hour of her keenest need, and had given her back her brother from the very gates of the grave, it had been so easy to forgive and forget. All the bitterness had been washed away. She was ashamed to think how angry she once had been. Everything else had looked so small, so insignificant, when seen in the light of the solemn realities of life. And although now the graver mood had passed, and with a rebound of nature, Sheila was her own bright laughing self again, yet there was a new sweetness in her smile, and new softness in her manner, and Oscar would lie and look at her in a great content, wondering what the change was and whence it had come.

“Here is North!” cried Sheila, suddenly springing up to get a better view through the palm leaves, whilst a bright flush suddenly rose in May’s cheeks, and the light leaped into her eyes. “I suppose he has come to see Oscar; really he is wonderfully attentive just now. He comes very often.”

May’s eyes were dancing, as she looked eagerly towards the advancing figure; and though his errand was ostensibly to ask for the invalid, it was to her face that his eyes first leapt as he made his way towards them.

Oscar had no need to expatiate upon his progress, his face spoke for him, and North looked satisfied and pleased.

“My father wants to see you, Oscar, when you are a little stronger. He has several things to say to you. That bit of mystery about the bill has all been cleared up. He wants to speak of it to you once, and then bury the miserable business in oblivion.”

Oscar’s colour came and went. Sheila clasped her hands together in excitement, and May’s flush deepened in her cheeks as she asked softly—

“Shall I go away whilst you talk it over?”

But North shook his head.

“There is no need for that, I think. You are Sheila’s friend, and I expect you know all that we have done for some while. Of course, it is very painful for us, but the truth must not be ignored. Suspicion cannot be permitted to attach to Oscar. Even though Cyril is my father’s son, he must not be screened at the expense of another.”

“I am so sorry!” breathed May softly.

“Yes; it has been a heavy blow to both my father and mother. The chief hope is, that having had his eyes thoroughly opened, my father may see that a different method must be pursued with Cyril. Temptation has come to him through opportunity. If the conditions are changed, things may be better, for he is, I trust, sincerely ashamed and repentant at last. It has been a miserable business looking into his affairs this past year, but we have got to the bottom of things now, and I feel sure his eyes have been thoroughly opened, and our mother’s grief has touched his heart. I hope this is the end of trouble.”

“Oh, I hope so—I do hope so!” breathed Sheila softly.

“And I was still to blame,” said Oscar. “I ought never to have let the money out of my hands.”

“Well, so I say,” answered North, with a smile, “but my father exonerates you even there. He says that he would not have hesitated to place it in Cyril’s hands himself, and would have taken a receipt from him without scrutiny; and he cannot blame you for what he would have done himself without a thought. However, that can rest now. What my father wishes is to come and see you, afterwards to briefly explain the matter in the office to those who know the circumstances, during Cyril’s absence, and then to try and forget the whole business and speak of it no more.”

“Is Cyril going away?” asked Sheila quickly.

“Yes, for a time; and to Madeira first. Our uncle has just written, inviting him rather pressingly. It seems that he has been rather bitten by the tales of travel he has heard from the visitors there, and he wants to see a little more of the world before returning home. Aunt Cossart and Effie do not share this desire, and they will shortly come home together in the mail; but he wants to go to the Canary Islands, and then take a boat for the Mediterranean, and see some of the African ports, and Spain and perhaps something of Italy, before he gets back; and he wants Cyril for his travelling companion.”

“Fancy Uncle Cossart turning into a globe-trotter!” cried Sheila merrily. “But how nice for Cyril!”

“Yes, it seems just the thing for the time being. He will be better away for a little while, and we shall know that he is in safe keeping. My father will write a full account of everything to our uncle—that is only right. But he has always been a favourite with them, and they will be glad to help us out of a present difficulty by taking him off, away from his old companions, and giving him something to do in playing courier to Uncle Cossart. Cyril is a good traveller and speaks several languages with a fair fluency. He is as much pleased with the prospect as he could be with anything in his present frame of mind.”

“And are Aunt Cossart and Effie coming home?” asked Sheila with interest.

“Yes, by the next mail after Cyril arrives there. Effie is so much better that there is no need to keep her out any longer, and our aunt is beginning to tire of hotel life, and to want to get back to her own home again. She wants you and Oscar to be there to welcome them, Sheila; and invites Oscar for the whole summer. She thinks he would be much better a little way out of the town after his illness, even when he is well and at the office again; and she says that the dog-cart or a riding horse will always be at his disposal to take him backwards and forwards.”

“Oh, how kind of her!” cried Oscar, with a look of animation and pleasure in his face; and Sheila felt her own cheeks growing hot. She remembered her angry words of a few months back—“I will never forgive Aunt Cossart. I will never, never live at Cossart Place again!”—and a wave of self-reproach and humility swept over her, as she realised how hasty she had been in judging and condemning.

Her aunt might not always be very wise, or even quite just; but she was very kind of heart. If her fondness for her daughter made her foolish sometimes, she could show at others a very tender consideration and thoughtfulness.

“It would be splendid for Oscar,” she said softly; “I should like to send a letter to Aunt Cossart by Cyril. I’m afraid I have not always been quite nice to her and Effie; but I will try to be better now.”

Oscar flashed a look at her that brought sudden tears to her eyes, and May, seeming to divine that they wanted to talk to each other, suggested that North should come and see the daffodils in the copse; they were looking so lovely in this flood of spring sunshine.

“Oh, Oscar,” cried Sheila, as soon as they were alone, “I do feel so ashamed!”

He knew what she meant, and answered smiling—

“Well, you know, it was rather hard lines on you after all; and you only let fly to me. Nobody else knows; and you tell me you said hardly anything to Aunt Cossart before leaving.”

“No, I was too angry, too miserable. I knew if I talked I should cry. But, oh, how furious I was with her in my heart!”

“That was bad; but we all have our falls. You have not been furious now for a long while; and I hope you will not be tempted again.”

“Oh, I hope not—I hope I know better. But, Oscar, if it had not been for your being ill directly, and everything else going out of my head, I should have talked to Ray and everybody as I did to you. My head was full of the things I meant to say; and how I never, never, never would go to Cossart Place, or be with Effie, or do anything they wanted me to any more! Think if I had had it all out to them; and then this kind letter from Aunt Cossart, thinking of such a splendid plan for you! Oh, how miserable and ashamed I should have been. I am rather now; but it would have been ten times worse then!”

“Yes; so I suppose we had better try and learn to keep our hot angry thoughts to ourselves,” said Oscar thoughtfully, “and fight them down, and see what they are really like before we try and let fly! Looking back at things, I’ve often been sorry for speaking hastily; but I don’t think I’ve ever been sorry for holding my tongue, when it would have been rather a satisfaction to let it run away with me!”

“My tongue was always a more unruly member than yours, Oscar,” said Sheila with a smile and a sigh, “but I will try to keep it more under control; and, oh, it will not be difficult when we are together. We shall have such lovely times up there. It really is a nice place; only it was dull before. But if you are there every evening, it will always be something to look forward to. And oh, Oscar, isn’t it good that you are cleared! I had almost forgotten that—because I think in the end nobody at home believed it of you. But I am so glad uncle knows everything; though how could Cyril do it?”

“I suppose he was very much tempted. I am afraid he got into bad company and was in great straits lest exposure should follow. It is easy for us who are not tempted in that way to be very much horrified; but we have our own falls into our besetting sins. That should make us very careful how we judge other people. Should we do better in like case?”

Sheila was silent and thoughtful; she could not believe for a moment that her brother could ever fall into such a transgression; but it came to her that probably Cyril had not fallen all at once, but had given way little by little to what seemed like venial sins, till at last it had been easy to commit one from which at the outset he would have shrunk in horror.

“Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer!” The words seemed to be spoken in her ear; and she realised with a start of shame and horror her own spasms of bitter hatred. If she had given way to her impulses of anger, if she had blindly followed her own impulsive thoughts and purposes, what family breach might not have taken place—what bitterness might not have been aroused? In her heart—in the sight of God—she might have been a murderer!

She buried her face in her hands, and was silent; and Oscar, who was also very thoughtful, spoke no word. He was thinking himself to what proportions his own carelessness and shiftlessness might have grown, had it not been that the sharp lesson met with had pulled him up short.

It seemed long before the other pair rejoined them; and then North had only time to say a hasty farewell and walk off to the works again. He had stolen an opportunity when things were a little slack to make his visit; but he wished to be back before closing time.

“Oscar must have his beef-tea and a nap,” May decreed with an air of sovereignty which became her well. “Ah, and here it comes. And then you and I will take a stroll together, Sheila. It is so lovely out of doors!”

The excitement of North’s visit had disposed Oscar for a rest now that it was over, and he settled himself contentedly after he had taken his kitchen physic. The two girls left him to sleep, and passed out into the sunshine together.

Sheila talked eagerly of the future and her delight in having Oscar with her for the summer. May assented cordially and gladly; but went off into a brown study afterwards, giving her answers at random. At last Sheila stopped short laughing and looked at her. Something in her face bespoke such a vivid happiness that she was half startled.

“May, what is it? What has happened?” she asked; and the smile which broke over May’s face was brighter than the sunshine itself.

“That is what I want to tell you. That is what I got you out here for. I am the happiest girl in all the world. North has told me that he loves me. He has asked me to be his wife!”

(_To be continued._)

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.

GIRLS’ EMPLOYMENTS.

_DOMESTIC SERVICE.—“I am a lady by birth and up-bringing, but I have always had a sincere desire to be a domestic servant. I should choose a housemaid’s position, as I am fond of housework. When I was a child, playing with my dolls, I always took the part of servant, and, as I have grown older, every story that I could get that had anything about servants in it I have read and re-read. I have tried two other occupations, but have failed for various reasons, and believe I should succeed better as a servant. How could I be trained in a housemaid’s duties? Must I go as an under-housemaid first of all?_

“CATHERINE NANCY.”

Evidently “Catherine Nancy” has a distinct vocation for domestic work, and she would therefore do wisely to follow her natural bent. The important question a girl should ask herself in choosing a career is “What is the best class of work that I am likely to be able to do successfully?” For instance, there are conceivable cases in which a girl might feel that she would make a good dressmaker or a good painter; we should then consider that, if no difficulties presented themselves on the pecuniary side, the painter’s profession should be chosen. Girls nowadays often fall into one of two errors; either they try to do work which stands highest in human esteem and fail because they have not the power to do it, or, from reasons of over-modesty or indolence, they choose to perform mechanical and subordinate work, when with a little effort and determination they could rise to something better. But among girls of the middle class the first mistake, the mistake of over-ambition is the more usual. To return to the practical problem set us by our correspondent, we think there is every argument in favour of “Catherine Nancy’s” entering domestic service. Formerly no doubt there might have been an objection that “Catherine Nancy” would be cut off from association with friends of her own class; but this difficulty is rapidly disappearing. “Catherine Nancy” may like to be informed that “lady servants” are now in great demand, and that employers are often willing to make important concessions in order to obtain them. Many persons employ only ladies in their service, while others are often willing to give training to a well-educated girl in return for services. “Catherine Nancy” could very probably be received into some clergyman’s or other nice household on the footing we have mentioned. It may be worth while to remind “Catherine Nancy” that it might be desirable later to rise from the position of housemaid to that of parlourmaid. The duties of a parlourmaid, comprising as they do the showing-in of visitors, waiting at table and polishing the plate and glass, are peculiarly suitable for a ladylike girl to perform. But it would be time enough later to consider the advisability of such a change as this, and in any case it would be well to begin as a housemaid. We recommend “Catherine Nancy” to advertise for a situation as housemaid in a house where lady-servants are employed.

_LAUNDRY WORK.—“Is there any place where I could obtain lessons in laundry work? I need to earn some money, and I think I could obtain the washing for one family; but though I wash well, I do not think I am a sufficiently good ironer at present.—C. M.”_

“C. M.” could be well taught in the Battersea, Borough Road, or Regent Street, Polytechnic. The last would be most convenient for her in point of locality, but by inquiry at some Board School in her neighbourhood she might hear of evening classes being held still nearer to her home. This would be decidedly advantageous, as omnibus fares from north-west London, where she lives, would cost money, which we are sure from her letter she could ill afford to spend. For some reasons we should have thought it better for “C. M.” to take employment in some large steam laundry until she has learnt all departments of the work thoroughly, for she is doubtless reluctant to leave home for many hours at a time. May we express to “C. M.” our admiration for the thrift displayed in the little account she gives us of her expenditure. There are not many couples who would attempt to spare out of 22s. a week, 2s. 6d. for insurance and sick pay, and 2s. for an aged relative. But we cannot doubt that people who enter on married life in this spirit, determined to be both thrifty and generous, will not want for means or help in days to come.

_DRESSMAKING QUESTION.—“I wish to place a lady, aged twenty-one, in some business or profession to enable her to earn a living. She leans to dressmaking. Do you recommend that trade? How long will it take to learn it in all its branches? What premium will have to be paid by an outdoor apprentice? Presuming that she studies for two years, what ought she to be able to earn at the end of that time? What would be the hours of work of an apprentice who paid a premium? Can you recommend a firm of dressmakers in Brighton who teach?—STOKE.”_

To anyone with a taste for dressmaking we undoubtedly recommend the business. We receive intimations continually of good openings for women to establish themselves as dressmakers. We will reply to “Stoke’s” numerous questions in their order. In two years a girl ought to be able to obtain a fair all-round knowledge of dressmaking; but she must be careful to insist on being taught the work of each department, as in some firms there is a tendency to keep a girl at one kind of work only. An outdoor apprentice is not usually asked to pay a premium, but is expected to give services for some little time. The length of this period of free service varies greatly, as much according to the custom of the firm as the ability of the young dressmaker. In any case the outdoor apprentice is not likely to receive more than a shilling or two a week during any portion of the first year. What she would receive at the end of two years is most difficult to foretell, so much depending on the amount of aptitude she had developed in the meantime. The average wages of employees in London dressmaking businesses are, resident fitters, £40 to £100 a year; experienced bodice-hands, 16s. to 20s. a week; ordinary bodice-hands, 12s. to 15s. a week; assistants, 8s. to 10s.; skirt-hands, 8s. to 18s. It is probable that she would have to begin as an improver at 8s. A fashionable and well-paying firm in the West End that is known to us pays its out-workers 11s. to 18s. a week. The maximum fee to indoor hands is £2. Dressmakers’ hours are regulated by the Factories and Workshops Act. The regular day, that is to say, is one of twelve hours, including meal-times. A good deal of overtime is unfortunately worked during the season. An apprentice, whether paying a premium or not, would be expected to work these hours; but it is possible she might be excused the overtime, if special conditions to that effect were made at the time of engagement. We do not happen to be able to recommend a firm of dressmakers in Brighton.

_EMIGRATION.—“Will the Australian Agents-General be sending out any more girls from this country to Australia this year, on the same terms as last year? I am a general servant, getting £20 a year. Could I do better in Australia? Do they treat their servants better out there than here? I do not like service, but am very fond of housework and do not mind what I do. Would you recommend the Cape or Canada in preference to Australia? I think many of us girls complain and grumble when we ought to emigrate instead._

“A WOULD-BE EMIGRANT.”

If it is the conditions of English service that “A Would-be Emigrant” dislikes and not the work itself, we think she might very likely find herself happier in Canada or Australia. The Cape is less to be recommended, as much Kaffir labour is employed there and consequently only very good servants are wanted. Free passages are given to domestic servants of good character between the ages of 18 and 40 who wish to emigrate to Western Australia. Inquiries should be addressed to the Agent-General for Western Australia, 15, Victoria Street, London, S.W. To other parts of Australia there are no free, but some assisted and nominated passages. To Canada there are no assisted passages. The emigrant to Canada should select April as the month in which to leave. Women should communicate with the Women’s Protective Immigration Society, at Quebec, and at 84, Osborne Street, Montreal, if they think of going to Canada. Servants in Canada receive the following wages per month:—Prince Edward Island, £1 to £1 8s.; Nova Scotia, £1 4s. to £2; New Brunswick, £1 4s. to £1 12s.; Quebec and Ontario, £1 4s. to £2 8s.; Manitoba and the North-West, £1 8s. to £3; and in British Columbia—where nurse girls mainly are wanted—£2 8s. to £4.

_EMPLOYMENT FOR MIDDLE-AGED LADIES.—“How can three middle-aged ladies, greatly reduced in circumstances, best obtain a living? They could spend about £30 in preparing for employment, and have an income of £30 per annum. Some persons have suggested that they should take a small house at about £50 per annum, and then let apartments; but these ladies do not feel that they could incur heavy liabilities or have the responsibility of a large establishment. They are educated, and used to keep a ladies’ school.—M. S. S.”_

These ladies are quite wise not to spend all they have on the rental of a house, leaving themselves nothing for board or servants’ wages. The profits on lodgers are small and would certainly not cover the expenses of conducting such an establishment for some time to come. In our opinion it would be best for the ladies to separate and to take any posts that they could fill. They should try to obtain some kind of employment in the capacity of matron. Possibly one of them might obtain the matronship of a workhouse, or of one of those homes in which young children are trained. Educated ladies who are equal to doing some housework are much sought after to act as “house-mothers” to small colonies or families of poor children. Matrons are likewise sought for rescue or preventive homes for girls. It is for some occupation of this class that the ladies might wisely offer themselves. If they fail to obtain such posts on immediate application in reply to advertisements, then it would be advisable to spend some portion of the pounds they have by living and working for a few years in one of the London women’s settlements. This is the best advice that can be offered; but the case is certainly both sad and difficult.

ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.

STUDY AND STUDIO.

BEATRICE M. PARAGREEN.—We do not know the book to which you refer. There is a book, _Chapters on the Art of Thinking_, by James Hinton (published at 8s. 6d.); and another, _Three Introductory Lectures on the Science of Thought_, by Professor Max Müller (published at 2s. 6d.), which might help you. If you specially want the volume you name, write to the publisher or author of the book where it is recommended, asking for details.

EURYDICE.—Note the error in spelling your pseudonym. The story of Orpheus is as follows:—Orpheus, a mythical personage, was supposed to live before the time of Homer. Presented with the lyre by Apollo, and taught to use it by the Muses, he could attract all living creatures, and even trees and stones, by his enchanting music. When his wife, Eurydice, was stung by a serpent and died, he followed her into the abode of Hades, and by the charm of his lyre won her back from the king of the regions of the dead. One condition only was attached to this favour—that Orpheus should not look upon his recovered wife until they had arrived at the upper world; but just at the last moment he did look back, and she was caught away into the infernal regions once more. The story is often mentioned in classic literature, and is to be found in any classical or mythological dictionary. A charming poem upon the legend, by one of our readers, first sent for criticism in this column, appeared in THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER for December, 1898.

K. S. J.—We should think that your copy of _The Mercurie_, of July 23rd, 1588, if genuine, is certainly valuable. Write to the authorities of the British Museum, London.

A MAY BLOSSOM.—We should advise you to write to the Secretary, Board of Technical Education, St. Martin’s Lane, London, W.C. He will answer all your questions. We fancy the only way to obtain a situation as technical teacher of any subject, is to watch for vacancies and apply for them as they occur.

PRIMROSE.—1. Write to the Secretary of the Church Missionary Society, Salisbury Square, London, E.C., inquiring for the hymn in question.—2. We do not think it is customary to have a cake and a new wedding-ring at a silver wedding. At any rate we have never heard of the practice in London.

HOPEFUL.—The best course would be for you to allow the young girl, who has so good a voice, to attend for a course of training at the Royal Academy of Music, Royal College of Music, Guildhall School of Music, or Trinity College, London. For terms see Answers to Correspondents in THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER for May, etc. No correspondence with a professional singer would be of much use in the way of tuition. If you had given your address, our advice might have been more practical. Good lessons are all-important.

MAYFLOWER.—We cannot undertake any criticism by post (_vide_ rules in June and other numbers). There is nothing at all original in your verses, and it would, we fear, be useless for you to think of publication. At the same time they are a pleasant exercise for you in composition, and you appear to have a good ear for rhyme. You should not, however, change your metre in the middle of a poem, as you do in “Past and Present” and “Darkness and Dawn.” In “Spring” you will observe that “The birds are gaily singing” is a line of different cadence from “And the birds so bright and gay,” yet each occupies the same place (second) in the verse.

A BLUNDERER.—Spring again! Your letter is modest. Blank verse needs to be exceedingly poetical in order to be satisfactory, as there is no rhyme to help the ear. The fault of your composition is a negative one: there is little in the lines to prevent them from being read as prose, save the fact of their being placed below one another, and being of equal length. “Must needs be always upward sent” is a specially unmusical line. The metre you use is not appropriate to blank verse, and if you wish to try again, we should advise you to write in rhyme.

DORA.—Spring once more! We do not wish to be unkind, for it is perfectly natural that this season of the year should inspire a longing to write, and we sympathise with you in saying “Often I try to put my thoughts into words, but they fall very far short of the conception of my brain.” We prefer your poem on “The Seasons” to those we have just been criticising, but it is full of expressions that would not pass muster, _e.g._, “her pearly satin brow,” “the mould of marble cheeks.” The course of education to “fit you for a literary career” must be varied and extensive, comprising an acquaintance with the best literature of your own country, and of other countries also.

GWYNETH A. MANSERGH.—You might like _The Bird World_, by W. H. D. Adams, illustrated by Giacomelli (Nelson), published at 8s., J. E. Harting’s _Sketches of Bird-Life: Haunts and Habits_, illustrated (W. H. Allen, 10s. 6d.), or Rev. J. G. Wood’s _Branch Builders_ (Longman, 2s. 6d.).

INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENCE.

M. ARAPIAN, care of British Post Office, Smyrna, Turkey, Asia Minor, asks MISS ANICE E. CRESS if she would be so kind as to forward her present address.

“IDA,” who has for some time been corresponding with FLORENCE JEFFERY of 848, Columbus Avenue, New York, writes to say that the last letter was returned with “not found” upon it. As “IDA” much enjoyed the correspondence, she begs MISS JEFFERY to renew it. She would also like to correspond with another English girl living abroad, aged about nineteen.

MISS TAYLOR, 22, Lynmouth Road, Stamford Hill, London, N., would like to exchange stamps with anyone who can let her have specimens of Newfoundland stamps, old and new issues, or any from New Brunswick, Nicaragua, Finland, or Iceland. Also, she would be glad to correspond with any amongst the G.O.P.’s many readers in India who would send her some of the curious Asiatic stamps, such as Alwar, Bhopal, Cabul, Cashmere, Deccan, Faridkot, etc.

GWYNETH A. MANSERGH, Willowdale, Broxbourne, Herts, aged 13½, wishes to correspond with “VALENTINA.” She would also like to exchange post cards with “GIGLIA.”

“PEGGY PICKLE” would very much like to correspond with a French girl of about her own age (18) interested in literature, art, or any outdoor pursuits. She thinks “JAPONICA’S” plan of writing alternate letters in French and English, her correspondent doing the same, a very good one. She would also like to obtain a German correspondent, though her knowledge of the latter language is very slight.

LILY GODDARD, Abbotsford, Burgess Hill, Sussex, would like to correspond with a French girl aged 16 or 17, each to write in the language of the other, and to correct the letters received.

BESSIE ALEXANDER, Mimosa Villa, Newport, Jamaica, West Indies, desires to exchange stamps with other girl collectors.

MISS L. HANDSON, 84, Cartergate, Grimsby, would like to correspond with MISS NELLY POLLAK.

EDITH G. EDWARDS, care of W. M. Edwards, Esq., Rosebank, P.O. Box 37, Krugersdorp, Transvaal, wishes to write in French to some French girl, who might write in English, letters to be corrected and returned.

BESSIE BURNETT, 8, River View, Ashton, Preston, Lancashire, 13½ years of age, writes as follows: “I should very much like to correspond with VALENTINA BOZZOTTI, St. Giuseppe 11, Milan, Italy. I am very glad she loves English people, and I feel sure I should love her. I look forward with pleasure to writing and making friends with someone else who reads THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER.”

⁂ The requests given above oblige the Editor to repeat that where an address is given by a subscriber any would-be correspondent may write to her direct, without losing time by sending to this column. Addresses are given with the view of their being used, and when given, may be considered correct and sufficient.

MEDICAL.

A CONSTANT SUFFERER.—The liver is a most unfortunate organ, since it has to bear the brunt not only of special diseases of its own, but also of many of the morbid conditions of the stomach and bowels below, and of the heart and lungs above. But this is not all. The liver has to suffer for every indiscretion in diet—a most formidable form of slavery—and over and above this, it is held responsible for many complaints with which it has nothing to do. If you eat too much, too rich food, too often, or too indigestible food, the liver must suffer. The signs of “liver complaint” are a feeling of oppression in the right side of the abdomen; a yellowish tinge of the skin; headache; weariness and disinclination for work or exertion of any kind; sleeplessness and nightmares; constipation, usually, and general debility. The cause is almost invariably overeating or overdrinking, combined with a sedentary occupation. But it may be due to other more serious causes. The treatment is suggested by the cause—extra exercise, little to eat, and still less to drink. There is one drug which is of immense value in this condition, namely, calomel. Two grains of calomel with twenty grains of bicarbonate of soda, and one day’s absolute fasting, will usually cure an attack of “liver.” Abstemious living will prevent the attacks from recurring.

CONSTANT READER.—Your friend had far better see her own doctor. It would be a waste of time to discuss all the possible things from which she may be suffering, and you tell us nothing which could lead us to a correct view of her illness.

ANXIOUS ONE.—Your condition is connected with a feeble circulation. Plenty of digestible food, warm clothing, and plenty of exercise, will do you more good than any local application; but the ichthiol ointment _may_ do something for you.

MISCELLANEOUS.

AN ANXIOUS SISTER.—The salary of a London female sanitary inspector is from £80 to £150 per annum. In the provinces it is rather less, being from £52 to £80; in Scotland £52. An excellent position for both males and females.

A. B. C.—Certainly, Meran, in the Tyrol, is one of the very first places for the grape cure; but it is so popular that you should engage apartments or hotel accommodation some time prior to your visit. We have made the cure there, and consider it a beautiful locality. It stands at 1,100 feet above the sea-level. Should you find Meran too expensive, try Botzen, also a charming place at Gries, a suburb, full of shady gardens, and detached villas, and pensions. Here the “air cure,” as well as grape cure, is carried out. Should you decide on Botzen, you had better write to the Hôtel Badl, or the Schwartze Gries, in the Square Botzen. You could drive out to Gries from thence, and suit yourself. One piece of advice will be valuable to you. Take a less quantity of grapes than the full amount generally prescribed, and procure from a doctor or chemist the tooth-powder essential for the preservation of the teeth. The peculiar acid of grapes tends to destroy the enamel. Remember this.

MINNIE.—You will have to commence paying dog tax as soon as your puppy has passed six months of age, when you will be charged 7s. 6d. per annum.

B. D.—The address of the “Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals,” is 105, Jermyn Street, St. James’s, S.W. The secretary is John Colman, Esq.

ROVER.—The phrase, “between dog and wolf,” is applied to the dusk, when there is neither clear daylight nor darkness. There is the same phrase in Latin and French, viz., “_Inter canem et lupum_,” and “_Entre chien et loup_.”

GLODEN CARRICK.—The origin of the name “London” is of remote times in English history. If from the Celtic, it is a corruption of _Luan-dun_, “City of the Moon,” which seems appropriate, considering that, according to tradition, a temple to Diana—the Moon—stood on the site of St. Paul’s. Other origins are given for the name; such as “Lud’s town,” being so called after a mythical king of Britain (so termed by Dr. Brewer). Stowe, however, speaks of him as a real character, and says he repaired the city and built Lud-gate; and that, in the year 1260, the gate was decorated with the figures of kings—Lud included. In the time of Edward VI. the heads of these monarchs were knocked off—possibly being mistaken for effigies of saints—and “Queen Mary,” Stowe continues, “did set new heads upon their bodies again; and the twenty-eighth of Queen Elizabeth, the gate was newly and beautifully built, with images of Lud and others, as before” (_Survey of London_). Spenser, in his _Faerie Queene_, confirms the tradition that Lud—

“... Built that gate of which his name is hight, By which he lies entombèd solemnly.”

JANEY.—You can buy ready-prepared marking-ink so cheaply, and it saves so much trouble, that an old-fashioned recipe for home making seems out of date. Still, we give one out of our own recipe book, which is said to be satisfactory. For the ink, take 25 grs. of lunar caustic; ¼ oz. of rain water; and ½ drachm of sap green. To prepare the article you will need ½ oz. sal. soda, ¼ oz. of gum arabic, and 2 oz. of rain water, and a little cochineal. Steep the part to be marked in this preparation. We have not tried it; but if the ready-made ink be unsatisfactory, you can but make a trial of this.

SUFFERER.—Although you may not have the means of obtaining the benefit of change of climate and mineral waters, prescribed for you by your doctor, there is much you can do—and with a prospect of cure—at home. Avoid the use of sugar in everything; use saccharine in your tea, and take exercises night and morning, to free the contracted muscles of the arm. Raise the arms from the sides (stretching them out) twelve or twenty-four times; throw them upwards, higher than your head, in front of you. Spread them out on each side, and bring them up behind your back so as to meet; and swing round each hand alternately, to clasp it respectively on each shoulder; turning the head every time to that side. Whichever of these exercises hurts you the most, should be repeated the oftenest. These exercises (and especially with abstention from sugar) will cure the rheumatism in your arm and shoulder.

IGNORANT OF ETIQUETTE.—It is not necessary to leave cards for yourself nor for any member of the family if received by your hostess in person. Certainly on whatever occasion you are shown into a reception room, you should be announced by the servant as you enter. Never send in a card for the purpose.

KITTY.—There could be no hard and fast rule as to the character or amount of a _trousseau_. All depends on the wealth and position of the bride’s parents. She has nothing to prepare for her future home. That is the husband’s business.

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[Transcriber’s Note: the following changes have been made to this text.

Page 789: duplicate word “and” corrected—“and let it stand”.

Page 798: horrow to horror—“shame and horror”.

Page 799: recieve to receive—“to receive more than”.

Page 800: your to you—“you enter”.]