or taffetas of bright colour. The trimming consists of flowers, bows of ribbon or velvet. These plain skirts are worn with a body en chemisette, and a deep Suisse belt. Contrary to last winter few jewels are worn. The neck if handsome is left quite bare, not a ribbon or an ornament around it. The graceful lines of the neck are shown in their full beauty. Ladies with fine sculptured forms will be delighted with this new fashion. But I would advise ladies of large frame and conspicuous neck bones, to hide them by a collier of grass and paquerettes, or small roses, or a rüche of tulle illusion made lightly.

The trimming for the hair is an aigrette of plumes, or Greek bands of gold braid, silver braid, velvet, steel, &c.

No bracelets are worn, only the long glove or mitten. To keep these up, a narrow elastic is sewn on the gloves; if they are kid gloves, a few stitches given here and there inside the edge of the glove to the elastic band will be sufficient to keep them up, and these will not be perceived.

For young ladies, fans are made to match the toilette. Example, take a penny fan (palm leaf), cover it first with the material that your costume is made of, either pink, olive, or blue, then cover it again with lace, both sides, as tastefully as you can; then in the centre, place a graceful bouquet either of natural or artificial flowers; for the handle you first gum it, then you case it by winding a ribbon all round it, and terminating by a bow. These fans are pretty, light, and inexpensive.

Shoes are worn as much as possible matching the dress, with white silk stockings. If the shoes do not match they must be white, and the hose must match the dress.

Married ladies and mammas are attired in more elegant and costly materials, a great deal of velours and broché being used. All their dresses should have long trains, that is generally where the velours is used. Some of the ball dresses are most elaborately embroidered with jewels; some are all embroidered with real gold thread, or with silver. Rich lace is sewn quite flat on plain silk or velvet, so as well to define its beautiful pattern. Like young ladies, married ladies wear no jewels round their neck, but their hair is, and must be, well covered with diamonds. Reception dresses are the same as carriage dresses: they must be rich, bright, and well-made.

Out-door boots and shoes have the Louis XIII heels; few of the Louis XV are to be seen.

Small visite mantillas are very much worn, all covered with lace and beads, and lined with bright silks. These are worn under the long fur pelisses, and when visiting the long pelisse is left with the footman, and you enter the reception rooms with the pretty mantilla on. This new fashion allows the ladies the gratification of showing their pretty toilettes.

Hats and bonnets vary very much; they are not not quite the same here as in England. The Alps, the toit de maison, does not seem to take much in England, but en revanche, the felt hat with large crown, trimmed with all sorts of coloured feathers, is to be seen everywhere: it has become so common as to be painful to the eye. The Capote is always fashionable.

3

Allow me to close my letter by wishing you a bright Christmas, and a prosperous New Year. COMTESSE DE B

THE FULL-SIZED PATTERN. N.B. The full-sized Patterns given in this Magazine are all cut for Ladies of medium height, and of propor tionate figure: measuring 34 inches round the chest, and 24 waist, unless otherwise stated in the description.

All allowances necessary for the seams are already given to these Patterns, so that the seams NEED NOT be allowed for when cutting out, except in materials that require extra wide turnings in.

The greatest care is always taken by the binders to ensure the whole of the pieces composing each pattern being folded up in it. If at any time, through accident, our subscribers should find any pieces missing, the EDITORS will be happy to supply the deficiency, post free, during the month after publication, on receipt of a letter or post card addressed to them at 1, Kelso Place, Kensington, London, W.

LADIES' HUSSAR JACKET. 36 B.; 26 W.

66

A TAILOR-MADE PATTERN BY T. H. HOLDING. This Jacket is cut to allow of but a moderate amount of dress improver. The front "V," or dart," only should be carried through to the bottom. Horsehair padding must be carefully worked into the shoulders, its edges bound, to prevent it working through. All the seams must not only be well pressed "open," but the iron should be used in pushing out well, from the seam on each side, the spring or loose material. Meltons and Elysians are the favorite materials. Block patterns may be had at 9d. each from 30 to 40 Chest. Specially-cut patterns 1s. 1d. each to any size See page 10, end of second column,

or measure.

Description

Of the Plates of Costumes.

Full-sized patterns of all the Dresses, Casaques, Pelisses, &c., on these Plates are supplied at the nominal prices of from 3d. to 9d. each, for the accomodation of subscribers. For particulars see pages 11 and 12. The Number in brackets, preceding the description of each figure, is the number of the Costume in our list of full-sized patterns.

The Reverse Views of all the Costumes on Plates 1, 2, 3 and 4 will be found on Plate 5.

PLATE THE FIRST.

Fig. 1.-(433).-The Brighton Reception Toilette of purple broché, satin merveilleux, and gold satin. The body is made with four points in front and a jockey at back; it is trimmed with white dentelle au passé all round, and has lace cuffs and wide collar.

The overskirt is made with a half shawl drapery in front, a panel of five flounces of lace at right side, and straight folds at back. Underskirt of gold satin bouillonné and gathered. Will require to make, 8 yds. broché; 6 yds. narrow lace; 5 yds. wide lace; 4 yds. satin.

Fig. 2.-(434).-The Eastbourne Reception Toilette of black and grey velvet striped material, with a loose gilet and tablier of rich damask satin. The body is made to the waist, and finished with a belt; the back falls in deep box pleats; the front is plain

with a small plissé flounce at the bottom. The gilet is formed by a deep box pleat fastened to the neck, and then at the waist band, to which it is draped gracefully. From under the waist band starts the tablier, which is caught up at right side by a few pleats. This combination is very novel, and allows for all sorts of tabliers to be worn with the same dress. Will take 11 yds. mille raies; 2 yds. damask wide width.

Fig. 3. (435).-The St. Leonard's Reception Toilette of pink satin and velours mille raies, and bright green cachemire de l'Inde trimmed with velvet. The polonaise is made with a large velours revers and velours Swiss belt; it is well draped back and front, and ornamented by a long scarf of velours mille raies. The skirt of velours mille raies is made plain. Will take to make, 9 yds. cachemire; 1 yd. velvet; 5 mille raies.

PLATE THE SECOND.

Fig. 1.-(436).-Dinner Dress of pink satin and velours mille raies trimmed with lace. The body is made pointed back and front, opened en carré in front, and very prettily trimmed with lace. The overskirt is trimmed with two paniers, one of mille raies, the other of satin. These paniers are laid in deep pleats, made as loops and trimmed with lace. The skirt is plain in front, trimmed with a large bow of ribbon. The back is of waterfall shape. Will take 9 yds. satin; 4 yds. mille raies; 11 yds. lace; 2 yds. wide ribbon ; yds. narrow ribbon.

Fig 2.-(437).-Elegant Dinner Dress made of velours and rich brocade. The body is low-necked, with a plissé gilet of velvet; the edge of the body is made full in every seam, and lined with velvet; a large bouffant sash crosses the figure and forms the train at back, which is long and full. The overskirt consists of draperies of velvet and brocade laid shawl-fashion in the front. The skirt is of brocade, with two plissés panels of velvet. Will take 10 yds. velvet; 9 yds. brocade.

Fig. 3.-(438).-Dinner Toilette of taffetas mon. cheté and velvet. The body is made pointed in front and jockey at back; it is trimmed by a gilet of velvet fastening at side and forming a deep point in front. The skirt is bouillonné; on right side it has a panel made of plissé taffetas edged with deep loops of velvet, same loops ornament the edge of skirt in front. The back has a long velvet train made full and plain. Will require 8 yds. velvet; 9 yds. taffetas; 18 buttons.

PLATE THE THIRD.

Fig. 1.-(C 147).-Winter Wrapper or Waterproof, made of cloth, trimmed with braid and buttons. The back is made full by a fan-shaped plissé. Will take 4 yds. cloth; 48 yds. braid; 18 buttons.

Fig. 2.-(439).-Visiting Costume of brown cachemire, hand-embroidered, and dark blue silk. The polonaise is opened in front to show a tablier made of pleated blue silk. The corsage is trimmed by folds of silk ending by a clasp. The back and sides are well draped on a box-pleated skirt. Will require 14 yds. embroidered cachemire; 2 yds silk; 12 buttons.

Fig. 3.-(440).-Visiting Costume of black satin and red embroidered cachemire. The body of black satin is made with a bouillonne and flat gilet of cachemire, crossed by bands of satin, and ending in a long narrow point in front. The body is vandyked at the sides, and crossed at back by the overskirt draperies, which are very bouffant at back; in front they form paniers over a black satin skirt, edged by vandykes and a plissé of cachemire. The back is laid in deep pleats. Will require to make, 6 yds. silk; 7 yds. cachemire; 18 buttons.

PLATE THE FOURTH.

This Plate is headed by three HATS.

All these are made of black velvet, trimmed with feathers and aigrettes.

Fig. 1.-(441).—Promenade Costume made of cloth, embroidered with gold on velvet. The jacket is double-breasted in front, collar, cuffs and gilet of velvet embroidered. The overskirt is well draped front and back. The skirt is plain, embroidered en relief, with two plissé panels at the sides edged with three small plissés. Will take 13 yds. cloth; 12 buttons.

Fig. 2.-(442).-Young Lady's Toilette. The body is made froncé, with a Suisse corselet, cuffs and collar of velvet. The skirt is the Housemaid form in front, with a full drapery at back. It is trimmed with a band of velvet. Will take 12 yds. material; 2 yds. velvet; 4 yds. velvet ribbon.

Fig. 3.-(C 148).-Long Pelisse made of broché velvet and satin, trimmed with fur. The front is trimmed with a band of fur. Will require 8 yds. broché; 3 yds. satin; 9 yds. fur.

PLATE THE FIFTH.

This Plate contains the Reverse Views of all the Costumes illustrated in Plates 1, 2, 3 and 4.

PLATE THE SIXTH.

Fig. 1. (J 144, age 16).-Long cloth coat, trimmed with velvet. It can be made single or doublebreasted, and is cut in the redingote style. Will require 3 yds. cloth; yd. velvet; 18 buttons.

Fig. 2.-(J 145, age 15).-Young Lady's Toilette. The overskirt is made en polonaise, trimmed with appliqués of cloth flowers, or painted by hand. It is opened in the front V shape, to allow of a plissé gilet matching the plissé skirt to be inserted, ending with long bows and ends of ribbon. Will take 7 yds. for polonaise; 4 yds. for skirt; 2 yds. of ribbon.

Fig. 3. (J 146).-Little Girl's Toilette, age 5. It is made of serge, trimmed with black and white striped woollen. The overskirt is made en princesse, open in front and gathered at back below the waist by a band of striped material. The coat is trimmed with collar, cuffs, and revers of striped material. The gilet and skirt are plissé, crossed in front below the waist by the same band brought from the back. Will require 4 yds. serge; 1 yd. striped material.

PLATE THE SEVENTH.

Fig. 1.-(141).-Long Pelisse Mantle made of rich silk, trimmed with fancy plush and passementerie. The front is single-breasted, and trimmed at neck by long bows and ends; the back forms straight pleats. Will take 10 yds. silk; 1 yd. plush; 2 yds. ribbon; 1 motif.

Fig. 2.-(C 142).-Cloth Jacket, edged with velvet. It is made single-breasted, with collar, cuffs, pockets, and revers, trimmed with velvet. Will tako 2 yds. cloth; 1 yd. velvet; 18 buttons.

Fig. 3.-(C 146).-Ottoman Coat, trimmed with scalloped velvet bands, made into cuffs and collar. It is pleated at back, double breasted, and religieuse sleeves. Will require 10 yds. ottoman; 5 yds. scalloped velvet; 12 buttons.

PLATE THE EIGHTH.

Fig. 1.—(443).-Morning Toilette made of cachemire. The polonaise is made full in front to form a plissé gilet; fully draped back and front, trimmed with cuffs and collar of velvet. Skirt made with box pleats, trimmed by three tucks. Will require 14 yds. material; yd. velvet.

Fig. 2.-(292).-House Toilette made of brightcolored cachemire; the front is plissé from top to bottom; the back is gathered about twelve inches from the waist, and falls in large organ tubes, like pleats. Will require 11 yds. material; 3 yds. ribbon.

Fig. 3.-(414).-House Toilette of light-blue cachemire, trimmed with mille raies and a bouffant gilet, made of white cachemire. The jacket is only fastened at the neck. The skirt is made of plissés and plain pleats. Will take 12 yds. material; cachemire; 1 yd. mille raies.

yd. white

Fig. 4. (293).-Breakfast Gown of red cachemire, lined with quilted pink silk. It is made tight-fitting, plain in front, and pleated at back; collar, cuffs, aud pockets of plush. Will require 10 yds. cachemire ; yd. plush; 12 buttons.

Fig. 5.-(441).-Promenade Toilette of dark-brown cachemire. The body is made pointed back and front with a bouillonné gilet. The overskirt is draped in small folds in front, and crossed at side by a folded drapery. The back is very bouffant. Will require 13 yds. material.

Time never passes so slowly and tediously as to the idle and listless. The best cure for dullness is to keep busy.

A BREACH OF PROMISE.

CHAPTER VII.

"The first dark day of nothingness."

5

BYRON.

HE blinds are drawn down at the pretty Kensington villa. The August sun is shining with all his strength on the carefully-tended flower-beds, full to the brim of geraniums and lobelia, verbena and heliotrope, striking his ardent rays

into the little lime-alley, and making spots of sunshine on the lawn between the shadows cast by the branches of the old cedar.

Without the house is heard the busy hum'of life, the rattling of cabs, the reckless rush of tradesmen's carts, the roll of carriages, the barking of dogs, darting eagerly forward to the sylvan shades of Kensington Gardens, where they too (who knows?) may have made assignations for love or war, as well as the nursemaids or ladies they accompany.

Every one says London is empty, but even at the West-End there is yet beating a strong pulse of life, at least in this particular spot, for these are the houses where people live, not inhabit merely for the few months or weeks of

a season.

So all outside Gowry Lodge is bright and lively on this hot August morning, but within is darkness and desolation, the horror of death, and worse than death itself, the fearful cloud that must descend on a house when the dread deed of the suicide has been done within its walls.

In the pleasant fair chamber, large and airy, and with a southern aspect, which he had used during the latter days of his life, lies that which remains of Major Wardour.

On the prettily-curtained bed, where he had many a night lain atake revolving schemes for his own enrichment, mostly at the expense of his fellows, he lies now, the busy plotting brain for ever stilled, the restless heart which had throbbed with such worldly excitement in the race for wealth, silent and pulscless for

ever.

It is not to my purpose to describe the tortuous ways trodden by Goldie's father in the course of unworthy speculation he had chosen to follow. Suffice it to say, that he, with others, embarked upon a scheme which promised fortune and brought ruin, not their ruin only, but that of hundreds who had been

beguiled by a cleverly-worded prospectus, and the apparent stability of the men whose names appeared as prime movers of the scheme.

It was not the ruin of these hundreds of unknown people, men and women, which drove Major Wardour to this last remedy for a life's mistake; it was not sorrow for the blasted fortunes of the men who were known to him, who had joined him in the scheme, though these men were presumably his friends, had sat at his board, had shared his salt and drank of his cup; it was not even because his speculation had brought ruin on his wife and child that Major Wardour found life all at once unbearable.

It was his own ruin, the collapse of all his splendid dreams, the certainty that he would never have such another chance to achieve fortune by a bold and dexterous stroke, this had started Major Wardour on that dark road which no human soul can travel twice.

He recognised his utter failure, he saw before him total ruin, and his easeful, pleasure-loving nature had no thews in it to bear up against the crushing disappointment.

After innumerable small speculations, more or less successful, he had set his all on this one scheme, and had failed.

He had inextricably entangled his affairs in the vain attempt to raise more and more money, and when the crash came, he could only recognise one fact, that he was utterly, hopelessly ruined. No ray of light shone through the dark clouds which enveloped his look-out, no gleam of hope lit the prospect of the future.

His revolver showed him a short sharp way out of the difficulties by which he was hemmed in, and he, being not wanting in animal courage, however deficient in the higher moral quality, took that way, that dark, unknown, unreturnable way, and passed from the view of all who knew him for ever.

He lies, stark and awfully changed, in the southward-looking chamber, and his wife and daughter keep themselves to the lower part of the house, shrinking from that upper room with terrible dread, a ghastly fear beyond the natural repugnance of the living to the presence of death.

The servants are kind to these helpless, stricken women, though they are well aware of the wholesale ruin which has descended on the house, and entertain doubts, which are no doubts, as to the payment of their wages.

The cook does her best to compose little savoury plats to tempt their appetites, using the housekeeper's stores with a reckless hand,

knowing that no account will be taken of such things in the coming deluge; and she at once puts the kitchen menu on a more liberal scale for the same cause.

The palourmaid taps at the drawing-room door now and then, and looks in at the two helpless stricken women with compassion in her face, urging them to take frequent cups of tea, and trying in a homely way to administer comfort.

Goldie and her mother are grateful to their womankind for their humble useless sympathy, but it cannot lift by a feather's weight the load of sorrow suddenly pressed upon their shrinking shoulders.

They sit huddled together, talking in a hopeless, dispirited way of their trouble, knowing now the full extent of their misfortune, for the Major's man of business has been with them, and shewed them openly and exhaustively, the ruin which has overtaken them.

They know that when that which lies in the room overhead has been laid, as inexpensively as possible, in the earth, that they must leave Gowry Lodge, and find somo humble shelter wherein to lay their heads while they plan out their hard and joyless future.

Not an article in the house, except their clothes, is their own, there is a bill of sale on the furniture; plate there is none, Major Wardour had never possessed any; the few valuable jewels he had from time to time given to his wife, had been disposed of long before to help him in his scheme. Goldie's trinkets, mere girlish toys, fashionable trifles of the hour, are of no intrinsic value, or represent a few pounds at most.

It is a black look-out, and the two women surveying life's grim prospect, shiver and feel cold among their pretty surroundings even on this hot August day.

They possess literally no friends on whom they have a claim, and not many acquaintances.

Major Wardour had moved in a certain set, among people who were likely to be useful to him in the way of business, but the utter explosion of his scheme for acquiring wealth had involved so many of these people in his ruin that there is no chance that they could feel sympathy for his widow and orphan girl, or that they would have the means to assist them even if the sympathy were forthcoming.

Since their acquaintance with Frank Latimer, Goldie and her parents had widened their circle a little, and had moved occasionally among the magnates of the land, but during the short time she breathed that rarefied

atmosphere, Goldie made no especial friends, and in this her hour of desolation, she cannot recall to mind one name which may mean hope and comfort to her.

Once or twice despairingly she thinks of Frank Latimer, but womanly feeling cries out against an appeal to him.

He is to be married shortly, he is no longer his own master; his time, his thoughts, his care, belong to another woman, Goldie has no claim upon him.

Happily for her, Mrs. Wardour in her extreme desolation, appears to have forgotten Frank Latimer, at least she makes no allusion to him when she and Goldie are disconsolately running over the names of persons who might befriend them in their hour of need.

Goldie is glad of this, for dearly as her heart, longs for Frank's presence, his help, his comfort, she would not risk a refusal by applying for them now he is the promised husband of a more fortunate woman.

"He may be married already," thinks Goldie with a little access of bitterness in her poor bruised heart.

She sits with her mother this August morning, the sunshine excluded from that pretty drawing-room, looking round hopelessly upon the furniture and ornaments of the room, so dearly familiar to her, but now the property of a stranger.

A black dress just sent home lies on the sofa, and Goldie has been putting some finishing touch to the mournful garb in preparation for to-morrow's doleful ceremony.

Mrs. Wardour, a handkerchief over her tearstained face, lies upon the fofa.

Goldie is dressed in white, she has no black dresses, poor child, but the one on the sofa. She has tied a broad black sash about her supple waist, and a black ribbon is twisted round her little golden head.

All the rings and little pretty trinkets are gone, no flower breathes out its short sweet life on her girlish bosom; her face is sad and pale, and there are heavy shadows under the soft grey eyes.

There is a gentle ring at the visitor's bell; but Goldie is not surprised, thare have been many such summonses of late.

The parlour-maid enters with a card on her salver, and presents it to Goldie, thinking, from her covered face, that Mrs. Wardour is asleep. Goldie takes it up, and reads the name of Frank Latimer with a start.

Under the name are scrawled a few words in pencil, written with a hasty-perhaps trembling

hand.

7

The funeral is over, and all that is mortal of Major Wardour lies in Brompton Cemetery.

Frank Latimer has acted the part of a true friend. He has comforted the widow and orphan by his bright, cheery presence, and by his affectionate words and promises, words and promises which are brotherly and honest as the day, and contain even in their inmost meaning no shadow of unfaith to Mary Sainton.

He has seen the Major's man of business, and ascertained the exact position of his affairs, and being convinced that Goldie and her mother are totally penniless, he arranges his plans accordingly.

He knows that Mary Sainton's promises of help and friendship for these stricken women are no mere words, yet a subtle instinct warns him that Goldie will be loth to take help from his wife, and it is only in that capacity that Mary can help her.

He knows, too, that Lady Latimer has no cordial liking for Mrs. Wardour or her daughter.

She had complied with Frank's request in the past season, and had invited them to a few of her entertainments, but Frank was not deceived by her society manner, and he felt in his heart that his aunt regarded poor Goldie in particular with very severe and unfavourable eyes.

At the same time he knew the cause of this strong disfavour, and now he considers that if he and Mary were safely married and away on the long honeymoon tour projected, Lady Latimer will relent, and allow her natural kindheartedness to plead for these bereft creatures.

Miss Sainton too-kindly Aunt Lettice, he will interest her in Goldie and her mother, and induce her to take them up in her own energetic