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At One Stroke She Solved the Problem of Living Apart, Supporting Herself and Humiliating Mr. Sheffield W HEN a husband is behaving badly it is not always easy for a wife to punish him. If the wife does not happen to have independent means of her own it is not convenient to leave him—or if she sees a way to take care of herself it may be a satisfaction to him rather than a punishment if she leaves him. It has remained for Mrs. Justus Sheffield, of New York, to find a way to solve all three problems at one stroke—to leave her husband's uncon genial presence, to support herself and little daughter and to “get even” with Mr. Sheffield in a way he doesn’t relish This she accomplished by writing a novel, the sale of which is paying her living expenses, and her portrayal of her own husband as a conspicuous character in the book has made him furious. • HE Golden Hollow” is the name of a little novel which has accomplished three results —it has enabled the writer to live apart from an uncongenial husband, its sales have paid her living expenses, and the characterization of one of the per sonages in the book has extremely annoyed the hus band. Mrs. Justus P. Sheffield, the wife of a New York lawyer, is the author of the book. She is now living in Short Hills, N. J., with her child. “I might as well tell you,” said Mrs. Sheffield, “what brought about the final separation between Mr. Shef field and me. He sent a telegram up to New London, the day before Christmas, three years ago, saying that he was coming on Christmas Day, but would bring no money and make no provision for the children’s Christmas. At the time he had money for taxicabs and seats at the opera. We had two children then. “In spite of his non-provision for the kiddies’ Christ mas I had a tree, which my women friends fixed for us, with gifts on it for Mr. Sheffield, which the chil dren had made, and one of my own verses framed, which read: LIFE’S AUTOMOBILE. When the world is out of kilter, And the running gear’s askew, Tighten up your grit a little, And you’ll surely buck it through. —RENA CARY SHEFFIELD. “Mr. Sheffield arrived Christmas Day, not armed with good holiday cheer or wishes, but with a legal paper drawn by himself, which he spent the entire day trying to force me to sign. "When I refused to sign this paper he tormented me, and threatened to turn me out into the streets unpro vided for, with my two children. As a clincher, hoping to force my hand, he said he had decided to put Bar bara on the stage in child parts to earn money for him. Barbara w*as not four at the time.” Mrs. Sheffield’s book takes the form of a series of imaginary letters written by "Babs” to a sympathetic friend and confidant. “Captain Calderwood.” In this series of heart-exposing letters is frequent mention of a character named Mac. It is in this character of Mae that Mr. Sheffield declares he sees a mirror of himself, though distorted, and he has asked the publishers of the book to stop printing it. Early in the book Babs writes in one of her letters: “Why am I unhappy? A case of diametrical opposi tion. Mac’s mind is unusual and brilliant, but, some how, he does not understand. He cannot understand anything that is not built upon geometrical lines and backed by logic. Life to him is a simple and pleasure- able adjustment of facts, not necessarily corelated—just facts. Life to me is an algebraic problem, X equalling the unknown mystery of-things. I stand in awe of logic and I never was gyod at equations, so I doq»'t get any further than the doorstep of Mac’s mind, and I sit there like a child tvho has been locked out all unknow ingly. It is the lonely little spirit of me waiting in the darkness—and 1 am afraid!” Not a promising outlook for per manence in marriage, and we are not surprised to come in a later letter hpon this in the book: “To-night there is a dinner and I am hostess. Long ago Cornelia gave me that honor, as she does not like to preside. At the last dinner party Mac slipped into the dining room and changed the place cards. He thought I might find the man on my left too interesting. Mac guards me from what he considers temptations. I am always put with the chauffeur on any motor trip if there happens to be a goodlooking man along. Just how he reconciles it with his manners I don’t sec Peo ple attribute it to his eccentricities. Things are moving backward with Babs and Mac, ac cording to a speedily following letter: “It is a sombre me who is writing you to-night. Mac’s last sally into stocks went up like a rocket, with an alluring spray of gold that vanished, and the stick, when’ it fell, struck home. He is game tosjthe end, though, and goes about as usual. One cou.'d uot lieip admiring him, if it were in a worthier cause. The children go about on tiptoe and ask innumerable ques tions. “I have begun sorting over the household things. Mac won’t tell me just how far he is involved, but 1 surmise it is more than a little. I wish I could care for him, for I want to stand by him now, but 1 don’t care. He is such a bully. He takes so much tor granted. He is unsympatnetic and unreasonable. He has shown for months that we are going to the wall, yet he hasn’t drawn in on his extravagances nor changed his mode of living. He seems almost to have dared the gods to do their worst.” In a letter written by Babs is this: I am caught up witii the storm. No suggestions of mine are tolerated. It's his affair, he says, and he in tends to run it to the last. He is like a drunken cap tain that knows his channel, but cannot keep it. yet refuses to give up the command. I am waiting breath lessly for the crash. It is nearly upon^us. “The Japanese butler stir opens the door with much ceremony to the casual visitor, and a chef turns out marvels of epicurean art from al most nothing, and a French maid buttons and unbuttons my frocks that are beginning to grow a little shabby. But yesterday the gas was turned off. To-day they discontin ued the telephone service. The circle is narrowing. Soon I shall be like the boy that stood on the burning deck, whence all but him had fled.”* The story of growing poverty and a side light on Mac’s personality is shown in these words: “His library has increased amazingly in the past years. Its hundreds of volumes that filled the shelves when I first came now run into thousands, most of them de luxe and very charming. The editions retain their worth intact and, I might add, appreciate in value, as he seldom takes them down except to exhibit them to some ad miring or inquiring connoisseur, and the pages are still, nearly all of them, uncut. “There was a rap at the door. The servants stood there an angry, righteous mob. ‘We want our money,’ they demanded. “Mac smoothed the backs of his thin hands. He calmly looked the servants over. “‘I have no money,’ he said, finally. 'I don’t see that you are so badly off. Haven't I "fed you for months and provided a roo^ over your heads? You are unreasonable. I have no money. How can I give it to you if I haven’t any?’ “ ‘Sell the rich things in the house and pay us off, rejoined the butler. ‘If you don't we”l stay right on till you do.’ "Mac shifted his position. “‘You are welcome to remain if you like,’ he said. To-morrow we leave for the country. I shut up the house. If you stay you starve.’ “I took up Kipling’s ballads. Mac resumed his study of the book catalogues. “‘Are your hands clean?’ lie questioned me. glancing out over the pages he was perusing. ‘Yes,’ 1 answered. ‘I try to keep them so!’ “ I fid you wash them before or after dinner?' “ ‘Before dinner.’ “ ‘Well, go and wash them again, if you are going to read that book.’ , “I complied with good-humored tolerance.” Toward the end of the book the author gives a snap shot of Mac’s personal appearance. “His light hair hung very flat across his forehead.” That, the residents of Short Hills remember, was characteristic of the vanished Justus Sheffie'd. He was very tall and thin and pale, even to his hair, which Mrs. Justus F. Sheffield, Above—Miss Barbara Sheffield, Whose Parents Quarrelled About Her Going on the Stage. To the Left—Mr. Justus Shef field, Who Resents the Resemblance of “Mac” to Himself. was thin and lay flat upon his head. Mrs. Sheffield confided once to a visitor to Short Hills that he was so “tall and pale and forlorn looking” that she married him because he “needed somebody to take care of him.” The handsome author has said but little about the book and the identity of its characters. But she has admitted that much in her novel grazes the truth, and that this passages embraces it: "I could hear Mac dis coursing on the respective merits of music at the other end of the table. “ ‘It's this way,’ he was saying. ‘When I don’t like an opera I keep going to it over and over again, that I may discover why I don’t like it.’ ” That Justus Sheffield was an inveterate opera fre quenter admits no denial. “I didn’t dislike music, but I did not care enough for opera to go with him to hear it six times a week,” is his wife’s retrospect. In the novel Mac and Barbara split upon the rock of her charge that he had lived for years upon her money. That Mrs. Sheffield says is mere novelist’s license, a needed climax. The climax came in the affairs of the Sheffields, so the author-wife will state in court, when her husband pro posed to place their six-year- old daughter, Barbara, on the stage to increase the family in come. Indignant, Mirs. Shef field left their home. In the book Babs says it in this way: “I am saying to the man on my left, ‘Yes, we have seats for the opera as usual this Winter. Mac adores it and 1 always go because I want to please nim. I don’t care as much for music as he does. I get so tired hearing ovef and over a lot of people I ’don’t know screaming about a lot of things I don’t care about in a language I don’t understand.’ That sounds raw. doesn't it”? Who Wrote a Book to Punish Her Husband and Replace His Support. Mrs. Sheffield, as all her friends know, is essen tially domestic. She craves the simple life, and even in these days of feminine unrest finds it eminently satisfying. She makes Babs, her other self, say: “How I long to live a plain life, witfi my folderol sewing, and my books, and bother my head over menus, and a daily husband.. Mac would be an inter mittent one. Good night to you. I want to cry.” Her mood is a purple one in a succeeding letter for she writes: “I pictured myself dead, and the earT being shovelled down upon me, and I hoped they woul arrange my hair becomingly and not ask a lot c people. I hoped Mac would not wear black. He in r tall and fair, and black is unsuited to him.” Nor does she share "Mac's” liking for golf, .. his method of playing it. “Mac is so carefully consistent in his score that • don’t even dare think a shot without counting it. No golf for me. I always seem to be holding up every one and never getting anywhere—just standing around while they .shout themselves hoarse yelling ‘Fore’ at me. No golf for me. It makes me feel like a country without any boundaries. Jacques says that’s exactly what I am, ‘a country without any boundaries.’ Babs refused her suitor twice, but accepted him the third time. For this she gives her reason, shedding some light on the continually recurring question, Why Joes a woman say ‘No’ when she means ‘Yes’? “A man should have three chances, I think. The first time he asks you to marry him he is carried away by his own ardor. The second time he feels he must make good. But if he asks the third time it’s safe.” / Some Very New and Curious Fashion Novelties to Be Seen in Paris Paris, Nov. *24. I T'S the silhouette that counts now adays. The outline is the main point, and if the sleeves arc, not just right how can you get anything that looks correct? How can you carry out the idea of skirt and over-skirt unless you study the sleeves, and what sleeves there are? They are kimonoesque, and yet there is a dif ferent touch. The sleeve is loose, and yet it is caught up* in various ways, making the task of the dress- makef more difficult. But the effect is far better than has been seen for years. But the most interest ing and novel feature's of the latest creations are the collars and vests. / These exquisite com binations are charming, and—what is far more to the point—new. The edict has been issued: “You must go with neck exposed. No more high collars under any pre text!” Some of the col lars lie far back from the neck, Japanese style. The head looks like a blos som issu ing from its calyx, and this calyx is made up of tulle and e m- b r o i dered laces. But styles are sometimes contradic tory, and we see also some Medician collars of very fine lace rising behind the neck. The vests are all colors, all embroidered and of greater variety than ever. They are slipped into the robes, or appear under the reers, reaching down even to the waist. The cuffs are very long, even falling over the hands, but some are made with rows of tulle or fine lace in con centric rows. But the greatest attention is being given now to the de tails and the foibles of the toilette, especially in connec tion with afternoon and even ing gowns. The Persian tunics arc not kept stiff any more with metal, but they have been made more beautiful and practical by adding a simple border of fur. When these tunics are made of different colored tulle, em broidered in silver or gold, over a black and j&kite skirt, or even white tulle over a skirt of violet tint, they are wonderful in ef fect and quite in perfect taste. For the theatre and din ner in a restaurant the English style, has won a real victory, for even in the most modest _ music hall a stylish woman may show herself fully decollete and without a hat. This means c o n s i d e rable progress from the point of view of elegance; in a stylish restaurant or at a private reception, there is a kind of homogeneity now which did not exist fifteen years ago. Jewels will play a leading role this season in even ing toilettes. At the opera or even when attending receptions we shall wear diadems, dog-collars and sunbffrsts without stopping to inquire whether the occasion permits them or not. Magnificence is to be the rule all Winter. The leading jewellers have found ways and means to design diadems for every head, making them so graceful that no woman can withstand them, even Copyfaght, 1913, for a family dinner. But do not think that gems are any cheaper. But every one must have jewels, no matter whether they can be afforded or not. How they gif them and what they are no one knows—but they have them. As to pearls, as every one can not wear them on account of their fabulous cost, it is now admissi ble to use good imitations, not too large, giving very fine effects on dark gowns. But no one wears false diamonds— that is the law. They may be replaced by rhine-stones which light up a gown splendidly, but are not intended to im pose upon any one. As to rings and chains, it seems impossible to wear too many and the fan has its chain as well as the lorgnette. Even the rings have fine chains running up to the bracelet, giving a very odd effect. Veils and bandeaus are worn in tremendous va riety, and almost any way that suits the wearer. Head-dreses are more fantastic than ever before, possibly because of the banishment of the hat. 8 The cloak and shawl are to play leading parts in the boxes of the opera and theatre ff this season. It is quite the thing to sit against the background of a magnificent velvet coat, or even a silk one. The latest thing this year is the shawl. It is the latest “cry” with the sticklers for “chic” to wear a shawl, falling to a point on the back and running down low, with the ends short in front, crossing and pinned at the waist, or falling to the finger-tips. These shawls are made of the most magnificent ma terials—damask, velvet, gold and silver brocades, and even broad-tail, in all materials, even the heaviest. All are bordered with broad bands of fur, either of sable or skunk. Otter, being a little flat, is used only for square collars, falling over the shoulders and making a seeming sleeve. A small scarf, ehaped and made of ermine, bordered with white moire, is a masterpiece of arch coquetry, worthy of the shoulders of a capricious, Du Barry. The extremely high price of furs ex plains this tendency. A cloak of ermine does not cost less than four thousand dollars, a mink coat costs three thou sand, a chinchilla two thousand and a tine coat of sable, the queen of furs, twenty thousand dollars. Last year Ida Rubinstein ordered one at this price. The materials out of which the gowns are made are sumptuous, in deed almost royal in their magnifi cence. They are embroidered anil decked with splendor, but are not si iff as formerly. On the contrary, they are marvels of modern work manship, being soft and clinging, as if they were muslin. Draped and redraped, they are truly Oriental in style, but more deli cate than before. We shall not see the high girdles of a few months past, but more drap ing over the hips, with straight gpr- dles, made of me tallic materials, rib bon wound into ropes, or even gar lands of flowers, one below the other. The skirts are formed of folds of China crepe or very light silk, with some times a rose in full blossom embroidered on it. by the Star Company. Great Britain Rights Reserved.