New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1873-09-14

beauty: men loved him, and it did not need
his brilliant talk, bis daring riding, his
dash and glitter, to conquer women, so long
| as he had that graciOusly sovereign way
| and that air of undivided interest, which
always served him where better men had
| tailed.
Nevertheless, Andrew Renton might have
been all well enough If he had had steady
soul; but he was as uncertain as the wind;
because he was in this quarter to day, it
was no sign he was to be there tomorrow.
He had no fixed purposes, not even any
preferences; he could not tell, in point of
fact, whether he liked virtue or vice the
best. He thought the "Last Rose Of Sum
mer' the sweetest tune i'll tie world when
Amabel Burney sang it, and continued to
think so until he heard Honora sing "Home,
Sweet Home" He was sure the bluebell in
Honora's fair braids was the lovliest flower
that blows till he saw the cameia in ANA
bells dark curls; the blondes great repose
seemed to him absolute perfection till he
again fell in with the witcheries and vivaci
ties of the dark eyed and rosy checked little
beauty. He turned on his finger the sap
phire, whose dark blue facets broke into
bloOd-red rays at the angles in its cutting,
and wondered which of those two lovely
hands would wear it, as if fate and not he
were to determine.
But before Amabel Burney. crossed his
vision he had been all Honoras, save for
occasional acts of vagrancy of no duration;
and he had hesitated in his contemplated
proposal of marriage only because he could
not Judge from her manner what the an
swer would be, and not unusual vanity
. made him desire certainty. Every day she
had expected to hear the words from his
lips; she knew that she was his already;
she felt that he was hers. She was so GER
tain of hi, love, indeed, that she did not
feel il necessary TO restrain her own feel
ings, and though she cOntided nothing to
anybody, she loved him tenderly and idOlar
. trcusly. AND one ght she had betrayed il.
He came, on the morning after that fatal
evening, his heart tull-though, as you see,
it did not take much to fill It, He was sure
now of good fortune, though no words had
passed between them, and he intended to
complete the mute avOwal of the night be-
fore. and have a definite understanding in
relation to their marriage. Honora, on the
night before, standing under the chandelier,
with its light pouring down on the blonde
cendrec hair and gliding it, pouring over her
draperies of pale silk, and flashing back
from her great pearls, seemed to him so
glorious creature that he dared not wait
longer ere he claimed her. He could not
wait, he said. And yet if | should tell you
the exact truth, 1t would be that as no
mounted the steps the next morning he exc
perienced a strange sense of sufocation,
and had half the mind to retreat before he
was manacled. / suppose the artist in him
loved Honora, but the man in him loved
liberty.
But as he entered the parlors that morn.
ing, without announcement, he saw Honora
in the music room beyond, with her young
singing mistress standing beside her, and
he quietly took his seat in the window,
shielded by the curtain, to gaze on her at
his pleasure till the lesson should be
through. But the lesson was long. He
could not see HonOra further than some
folds of her dress; only the music teacher
faced him, brunette and bright, velveteyed
aud rosy lipped-a little piece of as perfect
flesh and blood as he had ever seer. he
sad-Only the voice of the fresh young
thing thrilled him. Before the lesson was
over callers of importance came, and, of
course, the business of the day would have
had to be postponed, even if it had suffered
no diversion.
There was possibility only between him
and Honora of one long. full look into each
others eyes, one long, close pressure OF the
hands, mute reiteratiOn of the nights mute
assurance, and SO it CHANGED that Mr.. Rem
ton walked home with the little music
teacher, and he would have been very
different being from Andrew Renton if he
had not followed up his opportunity for he
was man nOwise fastidious as to caste,
and he found that he had made the &C.
quaintance of one as lovely in nature as in
face, as innocent and unsuspecting and |
sweet as a child should be, as modest and
timid as a woman. There was nothing |
timid about Honora, though reserve and !
cold pride might counterfeit the charm. !
At first it had been accident chat threw |
him in the little musicians society: it was |
accident that caused them TO meet a gain in /
music rooms. and at other houses: then It J
was purpose. He followed the pretty thing |
about, thinking he was but amusing himo
self. To-day he fulfilled an engagement |
with Honora; tonight he went to hear I
Amabel sing. When he saw Honora he was
her slave, and showed it: as he left her his
letters were loosened; and when he saw
Amabel he thought it as sweet to rule there
as to serve elsewhere. Hohoras fortune
and Amabefs poverty made no difference
with him; he already had, if not as much !
wealth as he wanted, yet enough to answer
at pinch-his wife, whoever she might be,
could have her own COACH and would not
be destitute of diamonds.
Nevertheless, as the days went he felt
tritle uneasY-the least in the world dis
pleased with himself. He wished he mad
never seen Amabel, or else, on the night
before he did, he had not walked with
Honora in the conservatory and in the dim
shadows of the palms and bananas there:
or on that night they had been dancing
ogether he flushed with the music and the
waltz. and maybe with the wine, she white
md still as before; and as they paused a
moment in their sauntering through the
,reen obscurity, where each of them might
ave seemed little more than beautiful |
hadow to the other, he had suddenly, i'm
elled by he knew not what rashness, ex~
ept the fever i'll his blood, bent and kissed
ionora's perfect mouth, and, as if the fiery
ouch had broken the statue-like spell that
ways bound her, she had met his lips with [
ps as passionate. And then gay approach ]
Do voices came down the blossOnling aisle
nth jests and laughter, and they were not
lone again
but what woman of Honora's tempera-
lent, after all that had gone before-the
ing friendship, the long wooing-what
oman who loved, and believed in the /
onor of her lover, would not have received {
lat kiss as the avowal she had awaited
ould not have expected pfaifey rapture
I'D more open declarations OF he lnorrow, s
nd what woman would not have sat in
mazed and indignant silence, hiding her s
me, when days passed, and weeks, and. at
myth, one month was slipping into another. t
nd still the lover came, and yet no palmer '
ord was spoken What woman would
ut have been resolved to discover the rea- !
IN that lag behind it all, and. if love was S
} strong in her that she could not hate her C
yer, would not have hated the thing that [
re found was robbing her of him 5
but when some weeks had passed. and | /
r. Renton found himself in his dilemma t
mabefs influence counteracting Honoras b
at enough 10 make him uncertain of him. '
lt-uncertain whether he wished that he b
light marry both of them or that he had t
,ver seen either of them: and when other s
eeks had passed, and affairs were worse t
it'll him instead Of better, and Henora's v
amer grew lcier every day, and Amabel's Fl
ID touch of pathos in it that it tried b