work, to wash your hands thoroughly with a spoonful of Lux in the water, then rub in a mixture of equal parts of glycerine and lemon juice. This will keep your hands soft and white. Write to me again if there is any way in which I can help you." Regina drew a long breath. It was hard on the little soul to have no servant, but, after all, they were boy and girl together; no hussy had crept in to dispute her kingdom. At that moment Regina would cheerfully have consented to wash dishes and clean doorsteps for the price of Alfred's undivided affection. "Sad Maudie," was the next reply. "Yes, you are, indeed a sad Maudie, and I am truly sorry for you, for I well know the trouble that acne gives." "Acne--that's something to do with the skin," said Regina to herself. "Send me a stamped and addressed envelope, and I will send you a prescription which will do wonders for this troublesome complaint. I would insert it here, but my editor does not like me to deal with medical matters in this column." "Cheerful Sally. It is _not_ etiquette to introduce callers when they meet in your drawing-room. Life would become utterly impossible if one were liable to meet one's next-door neighbor, whom one had taken infinite pains to avoid, when merely paying a call. I should be very strict on this point if I were you, particularly as you are a newcomer in your neighborhood." Regina gave a sniff of disgust and passed on. "Delia W. My dear Delia, you can't be old and faded at your age, but you have let anxiety and worry get the better of you, and you should remedy these ill-effects at once. Go to Mrs. Vansittant, the famous beauty specialist, and put yourself unreservedly in her hands. It will cost you a few guineas, but to win your heart's love, what is that?" A sudden resolution seized hold of Regina. She would write to the editress of "Feminine Wants." She got up softly and went to her writing-table. "DEAR EDITRESS," she wrote, "I am a woman of middle age. I have reason to believe that my husband has swerved from his allegiance to me. Tell me, what can I do to win him back? I am too stout, I have never taken care of my skin, I have let my hair take care of itself, I do not think I have good taste in dress. Pray advise your broken-hearted "MIRANDA." CHAPTER XX FAMILY CRITICISM Sometimes it is a good thing to be aroused out of sleep, especially if the sleep has been a fool's paradise. Mrs. Whittaker crept softly out of the room, and went as softly out of the house. There was a pillar-box a little way along the road, and it was not an infrequent habit with her to carry her own letters to the post without troubling to make any sort of outdoor toilette. So on that soft summer night she gathered up her voluminous skirts, and with the letter in her hand went down the covered way to the gate and walked as far as the pillar-box.