The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1873-09-17
Kitty Blake.

One bitterly cold night in tn
February of 1872, I Quilted m.
comfortable study for the purpos
of ensconsing myself behind
white tie, and of encasing my per
son in those stereotyped sable gar
ments which cry, "Open, sesame,
at the portals Of society.
My friends, the Wilkins, wer
indulging in fit O! insanity, AM
the attack, which in the commence
ment promised to be Of a somewLa
mild form, gradually assumed gra
yer symptoms, until it culminatet
in tremendous ball. Vainly
pleaded necessity for reading VI
aase with which the eminent. firm
of Tozer & Bulsome had entrusted
me. Vainly I declared to Wilkin
upon the honor of q man and
brother, that I was out of that sor
of thing; and that l was only goot
for the mahogany; he didn't, o.
rather wouldn't. see it, and with
sense of bitter injury at my heart
and all unmistakable sense of fros
nt/the tip Of my nose and my cx
tremities generally, Ipulled mysel
together, dressed hurriedly, and ar
rived at Harley street in humol
the very reverse of amiable, ant
with the full determination O
merely showing myself to Mrs
Wilkin, imbibinga glass of sherry
and getting back to resume the pc
rusal Of a novel.
The crush had not as yet beer
well turned on, SO my ascent to thu
drawing-rooms was no very difficult
task. Upon the lobby Mrs. vii
kin was standing, behind a huge
bouquet which commanded. the
staircase like a great floral gun
and Wllkin was prowling iii imme
diate vicinity, with the air of MAI
who had succeeded in losing hal.
a sovereign, and was engaged ir
looking for it as though he wanted
it very badly indeed.
"Ah, Mr.. Brookley! I'm 80 glac
that you have come. Freddy tolo
me you were doubtful-all clever
men are, but you know I always
believe in you, and l look to your
aid to make this little affair 60 of
well.' .v "a.
I groaned in spirit. This meant
stopping until the candles were
snuHcd cut-until the tallow-faced
greengrocers were paid ott-untll
the milkman arrived at the area
ratings, and until I should be jibed
by disappointed cabbies as "the
cove as was a-playin' the pianner.'
"By the way, Brookley, there's
a little Irish girl stopping here,
Miss Blake. Come, and I'll intro.
duce you as a friend O minc," Oh.
served Wilkin, dragging me to-
wards a mass of tulc illusion sur.
mounted by a bunch of white flow.
crs.
Now, any Irish girls whom I had
hitherto been fortunate enough to
meet had, somehow or other, been
always too much for me. IF I wdf
blase, they were saucy. If [ was
degaye, they were sentimental. Il
l was learned, they were blissfully
and gushing]y ignorant. 1 had
been invariably foiled, and my most
skillful fencing went for nothing
l had not been able to score q pal
pable hit under any circumstances
whatsoever.
/ held back much after the fash
ion Of a dog being led to corpora
punishment through the medium
of a collar and string-bowcd &
grim, ungainly bow, and proceeded
to fiddle with the buttons of a pail
of soiled, bulgy gloves, and to glare
in every direction save that sup
posed to be occupied by Mrs. Will
kin's Hibernian guest.
At this juncture an attenuated
waxen-looking, halffed artist, hung
in chains, and clad in garments
shining with grease and threadbare
from aye, proceeded to pound away
upon the piano, aided and abcttec
by a pudgey man, who appeared tt
be blowing his whole person into
battered cornopcan; and another
conspirator, who discharged lis
duties to society and to Wilkin by
dolefully scraping upon a violincel
10.
"This is our quadrille," exclaimed
a very sweet voice at my elbow
with just touch Of the brogut
pervading it like a perfume, and {
soft little hand placed itself conf
dinghy upon my arm. l had mo-
asked her to dance-she had evi
dently taken it for granted.
Would I say that I had never
danced? that I had sprained my
foot? or invent some patent ant
plausible excuse?
No! it would not be fair to mine
hostess, so I sullenly resigned my
Golf to NV fnto