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* •.#' e=rr A Trial Will Cdnvincel jTCaiAb m mrni^ la not eqttialled bjr otHer te«« Ideal, FROCKS FOR THE VERY YOUNG GIRI. .AFFECT KMART SIM- PI J CITY. .Sinte the .simp".e mode is the way for Kmart r.t'ss, the junior mis.s will choo.se thi- f-j-ock of plaid cotton voile for its btcoming effect It is free and oa.Kv to wjur, there is nothing about it to get out of place, and mothers would be sufe in chi>osiii({ it to make tliems<-".ve,s. The riijht front overlaps the ti'ft and ends in a deep plait at the lower <'dBe. The back is plain, and the lonp, fuli sieeves are gathered into wrist-bands of a contrastin(t-co!or ma- t<'ria! to match the Peter Pan collar, h'hI rr,ri"»i t«t)s. No. 1317 is in eizes 8, 10, 12 ar.d J 4 years. Size 10 re- (luiie.-- ./ â- -: yards 'ili-inch, or 2% yards 30-inch material. Price 20 cents. Our new FNishion Book contains many styles .'howinif how to dre-is boys and irir'.s. Siinplicity is the rule for well-dressed children. Clothes of char- acter and individuality for the junior folk." are hard to buy, but easy to make v.-ith our patterns. A small amount of money spent on good ma- terials, cut on simple lines, will give children the privilege of wearing adorab'f things. Price of the book 10 cents the- copy. HOW TO ORDER PATTERNS. Write your name and addrees plain- ly, giving number and size of su.:h patterns as you want. Enclose 20c in itamps or coin (coin preferred; wrap it carefully) for each number and addrei-s your order to Pattern Dept., Wilson Publishing Co., 73 West Ad*, laide St., Toronto. Patterns sent by return mail. True Politeness. Ceremonies are difforent In every country, but true politeness Is every- where the same. Ceremonies, which take up SI) much of our attention, are only jirlilicial helps which lgnoranc« aasumoK In order to imitate politeness, which |8 the result of (tood sense and good nature. A person possessed of those qiiatllies, thoiiRh he had never Men a court. Is tnily agroeahle; and If without tliom, would continue a clown. thoii[;h tin had been all his life • gpntlent:in usher. â€"Goldsmith, In "The Citizen of Ihn World." Being 'Twins." Tfie po«t Byron onoe atoocd t^r «11 the cynical things he wrote by two beautiful linee: â€" "All who Joy would win Mutt chare Itâ€" ^apploec* woe bom a twin." Tliey enehrtne In unforgettable foa- bLou Uie truth that no one ever attains happlneae alone. I suppose no one has ever said: "I-Yom this moment I'll shun all my fellow-creatures. Ill neither marry nor make friends. No one will ever be able to say he has ever talked wKh me heart to heart; and I shall see for myself how far It is possible to go \>j being Bufflclent to myself." But many men -and some women â€" have really lived their lives on that creed. They have not deliberately avoided marriage or friendship. They, because they were following some par- ticular end. have simply lived In the spirit of Kipling's dictum: "He travele the fastest who travels alone." And when love or friendship offered they have turned away because they feared to bo hampered In their choice of a llfe-endcavor. of a career. I'ursulng their object, singly and blindly, they grow old. What have they then? Some have money; some may have success and renown; some are failures. All are alone. For It Is even truer that he who travels alone arrives alone. There Is no more poig- nant, no more terrible fate than to be old and alone. How much more than lonely la a man or woman without happy meraor- Ib6, who has run away from the hap- piness tJiat Is only to be found in being '.o someone a "twin"? I The happiest old person I have ever ' known was an old countrywoman. She I sat day after day with a amile on her jface: no, not a vacuous smile, but the smile that springs from contented I thoughts. When she spoke her words wore always of people -her husband, her children, and a multitude of friends. They hod all gone: but they lived In her memory and were worth I more to her than riches. She had : stored up well for her loneliness be- 1 cause she was not loath to be a "twin." Yes; It may be true that you travel ! fast If you travel alone. Hut what Is your speed worth If you pick up no treasures by the wayside? There Is another side to this busi- ness of being u "twin." Although, strictly speaking, there are no give- and-take bargains to bo enforced In the world of affection and friendship, there are very definitely debts of hon- ' or. For every kind word, every kind . thought, that we receive from our I "twins," wo are in honor bound to re- j tui 11 as gocHl as we have been given, if we give a little more than we need our "twin" is spurred to give even â-  more In return^ and In a short time the I world is an infinitely richer place than I either of us had dreamt It ever could ibe. Byron, I think, wrote truer than he knew. _ â€" < â-  Wat Bobby to Blame. Brown is very fond af his young son. He was talking to a visitor about the wonderful Intellectual development and future possibilities of the little fellow. "Not two years od yet. and he knows all the animals by proper sclentiflc classification. He's going to be a great naturalist. Here, let ms show you." j He took a book of natural history , from the bookshelf, placed Bobby on I his knee, opened the book and showed , him a picture of a giraffe. j "What's that, BobbyT" "Horsey," said Bobby. Next a tiger was exhibited, and Bob- by seld "Pussy." Then a picture of a loin wass shown, and Bobby said "Dog- ' gy." And when a full-page picture of a chimpanzee was displayed. Bobby ex- claimed, enthusiastically, "Daddy!" BEGIN HERE TO-DAY. Tke marriaca of Dolly and Nigel g«]eiherton proves an unhappy one. When war la declared Nigel is glad to •Hiist. He leaves Dolly under the care •f Marj Furnival. Nigel is killed and Dolly marries an old^weetheart, Rob- ert Durham. Dolly and Robert sail for America and word comes of tne sinking of their ship. When Nigel's brother, David, calls to see Nigel's widow, Mary is ashamed to tell him of Dolly's mar- riage. David mistakes Mary for his brother's wife and asks her to codm to live at Red Grange with him and his aunt. Marv is very biappy in her new home until s letted comes to her from Dolly. The Durhams were res- cued from the wreck and Dolly aays •he is writing to David. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY. How dared Dolly, after all she had done, contemplate asking David for money? She had not the slightest claim on him; it waa outrageous. And then she remembered that it was nothing worse than that which she herself was doing. She who had no claim on him either â€" she who was a stranger â€" a mere nobody! Dollly had at least been Nigel's wife, what- ever she had done since â€" ^but for her- self One thln^g remained clear to her. She must le^ve the Red Grange; she must leave David and Misa Vanvey, and the beautiful house and g^arden, and go back to the old weary drudgery of life as it had been when she first met Nigel. Any day, almast any hour now, DoFiy's letter might reach David, and then â€" She found herself crying soft- ly. She did not want to go. It seem- ed so impo-ssible to walk away from this new, wonderful lifo, and go back to the tear and bustle of London on a few shiJKngs a week; and yet how much more impossible would it be to stay here, dreading discovery every moment of every day â€" acting a lie. Once she had thought that she could go straight to David herself and tell him, but she knew now that she could not. How could she tell him that she had shamelessly called herself his brother's wife? How could she tell him that she had once believed herself to have loved Nigel, when now â€" at this very moment â€" there was another man for whom she cared with every i>cat of her aching heart? They were so very different, theae two men. For brothers they were amazingly unlike, and yet at one time each in turn had been dear to her. She had lost one, and now she must lose the other also. She crept into bed and lay awake, staring into a darkness that seemed pulsating with throbbing thought. The gray ghost had wamod her to go. Well, she would lake the warning. [ But with the morning sunshine her determination weakened; her coward- ly heart pleaded for just one day mere â-  â€" just one more day. A few more hours with David â€" A few more hours of forgetfultiess â€" and then she would write the finia to the story with her own faltering hand, and .steal away out of hi? life. I "Miss Furnival I Why, I thoughts I heardâ€"" He broke off, stamnering. I Impu'-sively Mary flung: out a band j to trim. j "Dontâ€" not now. Oh, px««!" Theire was shame and terror in her voice, and a very agony of entreaty in her eyes. "Butâ€" but â€" " FiiAier was compW*e- »y mysUfVed. "I thought^Iâ€" " A sudden light fiX-sd his eyes. He i*ood staring at her b!^nlr'.y. David's voice sounded behind tbem in the halL After a moment he loiD«d them. "Montyl" It was not elU pleasure in his voice, *r.d he gave one swift glance at Mary before he took his friend's hand. "What in the wortd has brought you down here?" "I wanted to see you on business. No, it's nothing very important, but, to te'jl you the truth, I wanted an excuse to get o>ut of London for a day, so here I am." • David begran an introduction to Mary, but «*e stopped him with a little Iteugh. "We l»ave met before, havent we, Mr. Fisher?" Fisher bowed gravely; there was a sort of unwi'Hlng admiration in his eyes. "We were Just going for a drive," said David. "You must come with us. Mary has Just learned to drive the car herself; she is quite an ex- pert." "Mr. Fisher doeen't believe me, I can see," said Mary. She felt as if she were moving and speaking on a stage. She did not dare to hope that Fisher would keep her Eccret; there was a sort of stem gravity In his face that made her heart sink. She remembered that he was Da- vid's friend, and that Dora was bis sieter; and from her own observation she had guessed that Dora nveant to be mistress at the Red Grange. Was it likely, therefore, that he would stand by and see David imposed upon? It was a desperate situation- She would have given anything had it been possibte to excuse hersel'f from the CHAPTER XL. KOUNn OUT. Easyl "I don't believe In learning German, Bpenlsh, French, or any foreign lan- guage," said a man. "Why," he con- tinued, "I UvihI among a hit of (ier- mans. and got along with thoin Just as well as If I had known their language, but I didn't, not a word of It." ' "How did you manage?" "Well, you see, they all spoVe Enf- Ilsb." The Ruler. There can be no plessurs equal to that of feeling at ouce the joy of thous- ands all made happy by wise sdmlnls- tratloD. -Samuel Johnnton. « No Punishment. TeacherJ"('ould a feHow get punish- ed for something he didn't do?" "Why, no, of course." "Well, I didn't do my 'rithmetlc." tJSUt No. MInard's Liniment for Osndruff. Her eyes sought David's furtively at breakfast. Supposing he had air- ready heard from Dolly? Supposing already he knew of the cheat that had been planted on him? But ho smiled, meeting her gaze, and asked if she were going to take him out for anotiier drive that morn.- ing. She assented nervously. She was- begiiming to be afraid of him now; or was it only of herself? It was after breakfaM, when she waited at the hall door for him, that it came over her with fu'jl force all that she wa.s giving up by leaving this house. Tli© freedom, the 'juxury, the little attentioii.H from the servants, Miss Varney's quiet affection. She )iad never had any of tliem in her life i)efore, and she had not believed how much they would all come to mean for her. Sooiv â€" in a few days â€" she would took bark and ermile increduloue'jy to I remember that she bad once driven I David Bretherton's car. It would alH a»em like some wonderful, unreal dream, as she jogged Iwmewards on a penny omnibus, tired after a day's grind in the city. She started from her reverie at the sound of a man's F^tep on the drive which ted to tiie road. She raised her e>'es. A man was coming towards her â€" « man wh.i.S'j face and figure looked vaguely familiar, and yet she could not place them. _A« he drew nearer, shs saw that he, too, was staring at her with a curious interecrt. After a moment he raised his hat, hesitating- ly, and then she knew him. It was Montague Fisher. For a montent their eyes held each other's, and Mary felt the color sAiwly 1e«ving her face; ewn her tips seem- ed cold and white. Monty Fisher! David Bretherton's best friend, whom she had met once beforeâ€" ths year of Nigel's marriage. \\^â-  knew her now. He spoke her name with blank amazement. "You think she is Nigel's widow, I know, but â€" " drive. She would have given anything for just a few moments alon-3 in which to recover her self-possession. A sudden weaknees laid its hand upon her. She looked at Davl-d ap- pealingly. "I don't want to drive this after- noon. Will yon, please?" He assented at once, but insisted that she should cit by his side. Fisher took the back seat. Conversation was impossible, save in- !:n'it/'l-".-: but v.henever Marv half tur. ed to sponk to thv man behini her, «l f found his eyc.«, watchful' and cur- ious, fixed on her fyce. CHAPTER XLI. "I KNEW rr." It was a lovely aftemooa, but she had never enjoyed a drive less. She was thankful when it had ended, and they were back once more at tho Red Grange. She nerved herself for the inevitable scene. When she mw Fisher follow David into his study, she stood for a moment with her hand pressed hard over her eyes. Soon they would come for her â€" soon she wuld be called down there to ans- wer the accusation Fisher would make against her. But the moments paer.ed, and no- thi7ig happened. She could hear their voices rising end faJling, but nothing hapF'^ned, and she went slowly up- stairs. But behind that closed study door, Fisher had turned on his friend with excited impulse. "David, who is that woman?" Brethertoit raised his eyes from a cigaret he w«s lightinfr. "What â€" woman?" he asked slowly. "That girl â€" Mary, as you ca'li her?" "Weia?" There was a little pause, then Fish- er broke out again excitedly: "Who is she? You think sho Is Nigel's widow, 1 know, but â€" " "I never wiid I thought ?o. I know as well as you do who sh<> is." Breth- erton's voice was rather flirty. "Shs is Mary Fumiva'l," he adil"! d-e-lihor- ately. "I bav« known it ail (jlons." % ecause you reallij live with your Cace Curtains, tneij should be Launaerea in LUX pVERY hour of the day you see them. If they have been poorly launder- ed they are a constant annoyance. Lux laundering will keep them true in both colour and shapes- will permit them to drape la soft graceful folds. rs^ Be careful to get the genuine Lmx. It is sold only in packages â€"never in bulk. LUX Lever Brothers Limited Toronto mi L-544 Monty Fisher stared at his friend for an instant without speakinig. Then: "You knew it all aiong, my dear fellow! And you allowed this woman to de3l)erately deceive you, and pass herself off as Nigel's widow?" "I knew it ell along." There was something in the quiet answer that Fisher -reeented. He had been David Bretherton's closest friend for so llong that it srtruck him unpleasantly to realize that he luid been slmt out from al'l this. I Mary Fumival's inifluence must be great indeed. After a moment he tosised his cig- , aret into thi3 fire, aiid shi-ugged his ; shoulders. | "Of course it's no business of mine; but I admit I can't understand you. ' What is the result going to be? How in Heaven's namei are you going to get rid of her?" i "I am not sure that I wish to get I rid of her," said Bretherton. Fisher stared. A dawning suspi- , cion crept into his eyes ; he tliought , of his sister, and her anger that night when she came back from the Red j G range. She, t-;K>, had seen what a i hold this stranger woman was obtain- 1 ing in the house, even though she had , been a thousand miles from guessing | tho real truth. (To bo continued.) o Contented to Know He Had It. Dadâ€" "You don't know on which side your bread Is buttered, young man I" Bad Boyâ€" "And I ain't goln' to drop It to find out neither, I'U say-" MInard's Linlmant for Inseet bItM. « Keep It In. A yardmaster was InterTiewIng ap- plicants for the post of driving of a motorbus, and among the volunteers was an Irishman. "Can you drive a car?" asked the yardmaster. * "Can 01 drive a car?" repeated the Irishman, scornfully. "Well, run the bus into the shed." Pat climbed on the trembling vehicle. He looked around, spat on his hands, grabbed the biggest lever, and pulled It for all he was worth. Zip she went In- to the shed. Pat was a bit put out. He saw trouble ahead and, guessing what would happen, reversed the lever. Out she came â€" hi again â€" out again. The yardmaster yelled: "I thought you said you could mn a motor car?" But Pat had an answer rsady: "Ol had It In here three times. Why didn't ye shut the door?" Sunset on the Lawn. Out of my open window I can see a' lawn. It lies like an oval pond of green water surrounded by heavyi trees. It Is trimmed clcsaly about the. edges where beds of brilliant flowert;^. drop their petals gently upon its! stretch long sharp shadows, for the evening sun is about to slip away be- hind the cloud pillows. The lawn Is richly toned and richly covered, and an Impression of some- thing prosperous and stately rises to my window, something of abundance, of true restfulness. The shadows of the branches are dlgnlSed; they fall like the folds of a lady's train resting upon a rich carpet. Almost, in the half light, one might fancy the tresa to be gentle personages, standing to- gether, conversing In undertones; every now and then there seems to come the slow, praoeful movement of a hand, or the bow of a head, or the al- most timid flutter of a fan. From side to side of the lawn can be traced a mower's pattern â€" light' and dark, light and dark; and where; the oldest tree rises In the middle,! there Is a circle. I cannot now detect that most remtnbioent of scents thati rises from freshly mown grass ; maybe: the morning claimed It for its own.' The air, rather, is full of evtnixig â€" no; special scent, but a breath of some- thing golden and brilliant and purply-l blue. High in the mauve sky a tiny moon' is resting. Ths trees look up and rus- tle their fine gowns. One of thorn. I think, has dropped a diamond upon a' blade tip. To-morrow I will rise veryi early â€" maybe I shall And Itl Platinum for London. Platinum to the value of £250,000 arrived in the Thames from Russhi re- cently by the steamsr Zsro. A Fair Question. "I wonder," said Legget, "why oMi Tomllnson changed the name of hit] new bungalow r' "Changed its name?" repeated hl«; friesd. Surely not. Re was rathsr' proud of it, because he's thoogbt It; out by hlmsslt It was called ths Ifu^j shell,' wasn't Itr 'That's right," said L«c«st; 'â- 11 thsj sams, it's altered," At this point a thli^d nan spoks. "Tomllnson," he said, "got ttr«4 tA that nam« bseavss small boys nasd to] ring the bsU and ask If ths 'ke^msl'i was tn." ♦ Heart Treubls. Ths young woman travelling wltkl her stem-looking father wos evlden^ not in the best of health. She was Ati, cidedly pretty, but her cheeks wen pale. A kind â€" it inquisitive -- passsngsr sitting opposite leaned forward and ad-' dressed the stern parent. "Your daughter seems very 111," h« remarked, sympatheticall.v. "Yes," replied the father. "It Is ant affection of the heart." • "Dear me I Aneurism?" "Oh, no! Only a lieutenant In ths Navy." WHILE IN TORONTO We cordially Invite you t<- in- spect our latest oars at our «x- bibtt; or with our Quaranteed Used Cars. oentraUy located at «0> Bay Street WILLYS OVERLAND SALEA COMPANY