The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1876-09-21

took shelter on the other side of Mrs.
Barnetta. Perhaps she had seen the
way Lucian's eye had followed her, and
it had given her certain Illumination
that made her shrink.
just then the band began one of the
Hungarian waltzes, a sweet and rap
turous measure that set the blood itself
to dancing in ones veins. Why notp
One last dance, one last moment of
ecstasy, ere he went out forever into
loneliness. Directly he had crumpled
the bit of lace into his pocket, and was
bending before the little Rosa, who
seemed suddenly to have lost all her
light gayety, and who put out her hand
to him with conscious burning blush
upon her face that his heart reflected
in melting glow. And then there was
no thought of pride, or of negation, or
forgetting; the music was swinging
them at its, will; they circled in each
others arms to its delicious and delir-
ious movement-eternityw would hardly
have any bliss for lovers beyond the
bliss of this moment. Yet only mo-
ment was it, few moments, brief
sweet space of half-conscious time !;
and then a faint recognition crept
through its spell and warned Lucian of
the poison in his honey. He was in the
act of surrender; he was about to seal
his fate and that of this dear girl; to
take her away from her fathers wealth
and her luxuriant ease, and condemn
her to the carking cares of poverty.
ALI his nature rebelled; he chose not
to be swayed by this melody of horns
and strings; he would have no pas
sion, neither music nor love, so master
his soul as to become the element in
which it swan, an exclusion of thought
and fear, of sight and sound, and all
other emotion; and with his imperious
determination he chose to break the
enchantment; the real world crept
back upon his senses, he heard the
tune, beyond this cloud that wrapped
them, breaking again into its distinc-
tive measure, and, exerting his will, he
controlled their steps and paused at
last beside Mrs. Barnetta, and with a
low bow, gave Rosa back into that
lady's care, and passed into the crowd
and out of the place and home to his
lonely rooms.
It was daybreak before he sought re-
pose, walking the floor till then, hardly
knowing what he did or what be
thought, but intent. on conquering him
self. He would give the world for Rosa
Mercier's love, but he would not give
his pride. To him that pride meant
self-respect; to marry her, the child OF
opulence, meant either to sell himself
for a price, or to reduce her to trouble
and WEAKNESS, in which her love might
soon wear out. He did not doubt that
love now; without syllable's speech,
he felt sure of it. While it trilled him
wildly and deeply, it cast a sudden
shadow of regret; he only hoped, and
cursed his fate that forced him to hope
such thing, that presently the love
would pass, and some one who woulG
make her happier would claim her. Al
length, with maledictions in the act, ht
emptied his pockets of the gloves, hand
kerchiefs, and trifes there, and went tt
bed, with the sun coming through tn,
curtains, and, worn out in body an(
mind, slept to the blessed and thorough
oblivion OF all the world.
When he awoke it was late in tn,
day. All his trouble rushed over him
but in a moment all his will to repel
rose too. He dressed himself leisurely
he meant to call that night on Mis-
Mercier, restore her handkerchief tina
he had forgotten to give back after tn
dance, and in some indirect way let he
know that he intended never to marry
and so seal his doom beyond hope. III
went into the next room when he ha,
completed his toilet, and, after attendin,
to one or two other affairs, looked TO
the handkerchief that he remembers,
to have taken from his pocket and t
have tossed upon the table there. !
was not on the table; it was nowhere il
the room. In panic, he rang the bell
and when it was answered, institutes
an inquiry concerning the thing. Yes
Indeed, Susan had seen it, and though
it so yellow and soiled she would tax
it down and wash it. "Lors, sir, it wa
the dirtiest little rag she said. aJus
straw-color. And l thought I'd give
a run through the tub and the bluin
and make it fit to be seen." s.
"Good heavens!" he cried, with
Mortified flash, of remembrance of has
ing somewhere heard that the yellowe
lace was, the more precious was it, an
that twas never washed on any accour
except by people who did nothing els,
Let me have il at once.'' And in fiv
minutes afterward Susan stood befol
him holding up the little limp rag, an
with pang as from a blow of som'
thing unknown and dreadful, the col
yer alton that he had heard over IL
transom of the hotel door, ayear or tw
ago, swept back upon his recollection
II Five hundred dollars! And gone
grief in moment! And he could I