The Louisianian. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1870-1871, 1871-04-02

tering to her bird, looking more Ike
little angel than ever; and there below,
looking up at her, stood Jim Mallory in
dazed and hopeless condition. 1t wasn't
possible for any young woman to remain
long unconscious of such gaze as this
some attraction, magnetism, or whatever
it may be, makes them "aware" at length.
And so presently the owner of the frizzled
hair and the fluttering bows ceased talk
ing to her bird, and, with little start,
became conscious of the observation of
Jim Mallory. And once observed by
those bright eyes, no young man could
have had the hardihood to have remained
at his post.
But must say Jim Mallory left his
position gallantly-some might have said
audaciously-but there is no audacity
but of impertinence, and. of this there
was not particle in Jim. Instead only
the most reverent chivalry and chi
valry makes itself felt under any cloak.
So now when James Mallory met those
bright eyes, and turned away with his
hat lifted to them, l say he did gallantly,
and the young lady who was the object
of this gallantry was intuitive enough to
think so to.
You may be sure that as he went he
was not SO dazed but that he sent a keen
glance toward the door which shut in his
little dark-eyed lady. But there was only
the number 2767-no betraying door
plate gave him further clew.
This was enough, however for the
present. More than enough you would
have said if you had watched him that
morning Wing, who was the sedate
father Of a family, catching the look in
his eyes, asked him, with grim humor, if
he had lately come into the possession Of
Ills y ,btuiSu cStitteS.
Mallory laughed his genial, jovial laugh
and confessed that he had had direct news
OF them.
Fate, which had been so elusive with
him for the last six months, now SEEM
ed to smile invitingly, for that very night
as he paced slowly up the street, hum
ming to himself ''Her bright smile haunts
me still" there from the doorway beam
cd the very smile he was singing of-but
-but-who the douco was that-that
black-bearded, Italian-faced individual
who sat SO composed on the second step?
What if jim SOW his Spanish estates dis
appearing in blue mist at this IF.
The next moment the mist cleared.
"NIr. Langford, when do you return?'
the lady asked of the black-bearded.
Jim never heard the answer. What
did he care when he returned? he was
only ''Mr. Langford" to her.
The next sentence brought the bluemist
back little.
"Will says he should like to spend
every winter in Paris"
viii? who was this Will? what rela-
ton did he bear, confound him, to the
dark-eyed little party? Then he recalled
the Will Hess of her gay misadventure.
So here he was again. Suppose-but
hark, what name is that? Can he believe
his ears when Langford says: 'Niss
Caledon?" Miss Caledon? Kate's Miss
Caledon? Yes, clearly, Kates Miss Cal
edon, for presently she remarks about the
Kauterskill, and something else, which
explains her presence in New York for
that week. Kate's Miss Caledon! Was
there ever any thing like it !?
"What an idiot I've been p he solilo-
quized. Brushing all over Boston, when
if had had my eyes open / dare say l
might have met her dozen times on
Broadway. Visiting at the Hub with
those four girls, suppose, when 1 saw
her,"
Which conclusion of Jim's was the
most accurate one he had arrived at for
some time, as he ascertained when he
called upon Molly Caledon the next
morning. Yes, he actually called
upon her, upon the strength Of Kate's
last letter.
To Molly Caledon this call seemed by
no means hasty or singular, for after the
manner of Young women, she and Kate