Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1873-05-24

nymph, and lost his heart. I guess he must :
have lost his wits too, for the ninny proposed |
in the dArk-to the wrong girl! There. did you
erer imagine sucha dilemma! Which would
you DO, let this lace stand up or lie hat!''
What did Rupert's friends do?y asked Luz
cretia, letting the lace gloriously alone.
4" He?-oh, he accepted the situation. What
else could he do? Rupert says it's Rossillon.
Heavens, Lucretia, what's the natter"
1--WE run needle in my finger clear TO the
bone. The sight of blood always makes me
India muslin. What shall Ido?'
"Let me get you some arnica."
No, thank you; III 60 up to nay room and
lie down moment. shall be all right pres
emily"
lyon didn't break OFF the point in your
finger"
III think not; if did it will work out: things
locked the door; but she did not lie down, nei-
ther did she remember any hurt but that which
Rates needless tongue had wrought. All her
happiness had vanished like mirage, dissolved
by rude breath, a word; all this time she had
been robbing Lucia, she had been defrauding
Rossllon. She had given her heart away when
the gift from pure compassion. But how admi-
rably he had played the part of lover! Well,
there should be no more play: il should be down
right earnest hereafter. But how could she
live without him? what should she do with her
thoughts that had learned the trick of follow
ing him, and would not be easily cOerced?
Above all, what should she do with the love
that she was about to take back? 1t seemed for
a while as if there was no corner in the wide
world Zig enough to hide and hold it all. After
she had in a manner composed herself, she
wrote ROssillon a few words, telling him a little
OF that which he already knew, adding her re-
grets at having been the cause of so much UNI
happiness to him, and releasing him from the
engagement The next night but one was
Christmas eve, when she was to take the part
Of Cinderella in the pantomime; and as there
was no ghost OF an excuse for her to offer If she
LnlAA IA~ l.. o,,I
dissemble her sorrow. And Christmas-eve drew
down cold and crisp, the ideal Christmas
weather, when good cheer and comfort seem 80
CON Portable. The northern lights coruscated
across the sky, which already resembled some
mighty arras embroidered with medieval de-
signs; the gaunt trees were tasseed with icicles
the hedge-rOws seemed set with jewels; great
flashes of light splintered from the ragged edges
of snOw-drifts where the star beams touched
them; the frozen ponds reflected the glory
thousandfolc ,whenup came the moon and made
a torch-light procession of the weird old elms,
| in their armor of ice, guarding the approach to
the Glenhaven mansion. Inside the curtain is
up, disclosing the stage, where the step-sisters
are dressing for the ball Cinderella is plating
Rates long hair, while Olive Glenhaven trails
white silk, embossed with forget me- nots, and
looks over her white shoulders at the effect in
the mirror. Presently they are ready for con-
quest; they lock the door on Cinderella, who
disconsOlately takes to the chimney corner and
hides her face in her two hands. Lucreta feels
every inch a Cinderella. Haven't they all gone
to the carnival of youth and happiness, and left
her locked up in solitude and poverty OF heart?
Isn't Rupert this moment kissing blushng
Kate IN the passageway?-she can see them
through az chink in the scenery-and aren't
the scenes?
As she broods there, a soft light irradiates the
dull hearth-stOne, and gOdmOther, with her
peak ed hat, spangles, and sandals, appears,
and touches Cinderella with her wand. Prestot
the rags drop away from her like witchcraft,
and the beautiful gOld-cOlOred satin, with its
opening morning glories lights up the sad face,
lends glow to the pale cheek. and lustre to
the wan eyes; and so Cinderella goes to the
ball, just as she did in the old fairy story, and
dances with the prince. Kate dances too, with
partner whose mustache is blonde. and whose
hair is yellow, curling gold; Lucretia wonders
vaguely who he NAV be, without caring enough
TO ask or to give HIM more than a passing
glance: blonde men were never after Lucretia's
model. ROssillOn's hair was brown as the burst
ing chestnut, and mustache would have in
terrupted the classic and expressive outlines of
his face. While she is wondering where she has
seen this blonde stranger before, the clock
chimes midnight, and Cinderella vanishes from
the reyel. The prince, nothing daunted, dis
patches one of his followers to seek her. is the
blonde young man, who meets only a wretched
little seryant-mai hurrying home. in the next
scene. Behind the curtain, Lucretia fingers a
moment in the great bay-window, to look out
on the still Christmas weather, wishing that
the evening was ended and oblivion begun. The
moonlight lends fairy glamour to the distant
hills and snOw-crested fields; the frost giitters
on the pane in fastastic imagery of summer
tlme-that summer so far away, and yet 50 pre-
cious, whose mere remembrance can warm her
still. While she regrets it, some one pauses I'M
certainly there, in the half twilight, and ap.
prOaches her.
&" Cinderella, are you looking for your slip
per?' asks familiar voice. She starts, and
turns to meet the blonde youth again, curling
bis mustache and regarding her.
80 you don't know me, Lucretia? wig
and must ache make quite success OF me,
don't theyr'
" ROssilOn! Oh, what made you Comet
$50 you are not glad to see me? Shall go
away?'
"Yes-no-how could you-n
Z" How could gou?''
"Oh, never thought of it's being mistake
L ought to have known better-I-"
" meant tO>ask how you could wste me that
saucy letter of dismissal"
'What else could do? hope you will take
care not to propose second time in the dark,
1t is not very dark here; | can see your
face; and I'm going to propose that you give me
CHRISTMAS present Of-yourself!"
" And Lucia?'' falters Lucretia.
Lucia, thank Heaven, is a by-gone folly
| never loved her as love you; 1t was a short
lived fancy at best; and have you and the
twilight at Echo Beach to thank for my escape
take it?' INV '''A"' gnu Vi shall 1
80 Hark! they are calling me: the curtain is
about to rise. You may take it," she answers,
''or shall be late at the BALI"
:" Take care; there's step here Give me
your hand, darling!''
50 A ste p in the dark?"
:" wouldn't care ii life were made up of
steps in the dark, If by their means you were in
duced to give me your hand"
And so the play ended in downright earnest.
tHdrper's BaSar.