The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1879-01-22
MATS LUCK.
ut is Just my luck!" said Mat.

ut is just my luck!'' said Mat. "Con-
found it!''
He walked gloomily to the window
and looked out-on the VIVID green of
the croquet lawn, on white and red roses
clustering about the porch; on the old
rector, tending his favorite geraniums in
the distance, amid blaze of sunshine
and glow of color. Mat longed to be
with him-the somber room seemed as
oppressive as cage.
He threw open the French windows,
drew long breath, and thrust his fingers
into the pockets of his shooting coat, fall
ing naturally into careless, lounging
attitude, peculiar to him. The fingers
came in contact with note, and idly
brought it to light. It was addressecs,S
woman's handwriting, to Mathew Cur
tbs, ESQ.,, NJ. D." A grim smile played
about that gentleman's lips as he reflected
how unsuited was that formal superscrip-
ton to the jovial. reckless good-for-
naught, known to rich and poor for miles
around as young Mat Curtis.
With Il listless air he drew forth the
brief Enclosure. His face darkened as
he pursued it.
"Miss Agnes Bellue would be glad to
have a few minutes conversation with
Mr.. Curtis"
Lover-llke-very!" commented Mat,
| with sarcastic emphasis.
Another glance at the delicate paper
and the firm square handwriting, the dark
look hardening the while, until the char
acter OF the face seemed completely al
tered.
"Look at it!' quoth Mat. 'Her hand
never trem bled; there is not wavering
stroke! Why most girls would CRY their
eyes out while writing such a note as
that to their loversr'
He crushed the offending missive into a
crumpled ball as he spoke, and addressed
few more expletives to the fair sunshine
-expletives peculiarly unbeftting a
clergyman's study, or the hearing of the
young lady who nolselessly entered in
time indistinctly to catch them.
Young-not more than twenty,perhaps
but with serene and queenly grace of
movement, a..gravely beautiful face an
air just now Of naughty disgust.
pardon me- she says icily; $50 inter
esting a conversation with yourself is
probably of confidential nature"
Mat turns with flaming face, a quick,
deprecating gesture, courteous, apollo
getic bow ana speech that somehow in
their confused humility stamp him as a
gentleman.
8" / trust indeed you did not hear it.
earnestly crave forgiveness if you did,"
She CONTEMPORARY dismissed the mat
FOR with tho o1irphfocf o.
eled hand. Cold, hard, proud she looks,
and her words have a clear cut articula-
ton suggestive of newly-clipped coins.
II sent for you.
eyes," answers Mat, defantly. His
penitence is dying away-the dark, hard
expression is returning. "Just my luck, ="
it seems to repeat.
''To beg an answer to two questions"
continues Miss Bellue.
Mat bows, thrusts his hands into the
deep shooting pockets once more, and re-
sumes the careless, lounging attitude.
Shave you entered your name, not
withstanding my protest, as gentleman
rider for the autumn steeple-chases2''
"Yes."
SIS it, indeed, true, that last night you
involved yourself in a poaching ARRAY,
knocking down keeper and helping the
poachers to escape9"
''Yes," says Mat, with kind of sullen
despair.
Miss Bellue draws something from her
white fingers, and holds it out. Me-
chanically Mats hand comes out of the
shooting.pocket and grasps it. It is a
womans engagement ring.
They looked at each other, curious
contrast in the two faces. Hers composed