The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1881-10-23

1
what Is called pleasure to-day.
| am tired Of compliments and battery.
Every man has expressed either by word
or looks his opinion of my appearance to-
day, and nearly every woman has done
the same in different way. Bee says
dress makes all the difference, and Bee Is
right. The starched muslins Of long ago
never added to the beauty the world allots
to me, while the wonderful and mysteri-
Gus costume ! wear to-day lisa thing Of
beauty in itself, marvellous production
of Worth, combination Of delicate tints
and costly lace, the sort of dress never
dreamed Of in my Madgie Alison days.
one man alone notices Inc not, pays my
no compliment, praises not my dress, me
looks-and that man is my husband. am
hurt at the omission and yet l will not
ask him if i look well to-day The old
DAYS for saucy badinage and mad merry
nonsense have gone by, keep my smiles
for my guests and reserve cold words and
looks for my husband.
strangers yet 49,.
After touch Of welded hands"
Bee sang that last night, and the words
are stored in my heart
Il
her long black garments trail on the sunlit
grass. She wears large soft Aeecy rutlles
at her throat and wrists, and black gypsy
hat tied over her fair hair. She gets away
into quiet corners by herself, and does not
speak much to any one, Humphrey joins
her. They walk away in tho sunshine to-
gether, and talk and listen to those
around me, while 1 think-nay, 1t were
better not to think, Thoughts are danger
GUS sometimes.
Over the sea the golden sunshine falls
like a sheet of yellow light. Far away 1t
touches "a red sail and down on the shore, {
where the tide scarcely rippleS, the sun ,
beams catch the dimpling margin and play
strange freaks with the lights and shad-
ows in the cool depths beyond. Upon the
clit-top are the yellow uncut corn and
flame of peoples.
have got away from everybody at last
There is great peace and stiffness up
here, broken only by the rustling corn and
murmuring waters. A quarter of an hour
ago | was listening to music and laughter
and voices, now | stand here with my own
was ever more unwelcome.
A laugh ripples out in silence, soft
happy laugh. 1t is Bees voice, know
| turn and see her. She is coming along
the winding path, her tall liSsome figure
clearly outlined against the golden sea-
Captain DelacOurt walks at her side. The
path is too narrow for three, and Chris
has fallen behind. Bee is all in white,
soft snowy white, with roses that are not
redder than her smiling lips, fastened in
her dress.
"Why, Madgie, what are you doing here
all yyourself"
81 was tired of talking to people," l
answer "There are so many of them, and
they all say the same things"
"Something has annoyed you."
1t Is Captain Delacourt who says this;
and | turn my yeXed face toward the sea
again.
"Why should anything have annoyed
mel"
81 do not know; but something has. /
have seen it all day"
81 hate being watched" | say GROSSLY.
And then there is some mention of Fc-
licia Grant, and the hot blood surges to my
face. A mans dark eyes look full into
mine, and know that Give Delacourt has
read my thoughts
Chris, his honest sun.burnt face beaming
with pleasure, has got Bee to himself ut
last, and improves the opportunity so well
that she ,auuters slowly on with him; and
we two slowly follow on in silence, 81,
lence that is somewhat unusual. Captain
Delacourt breaks it first.
"Mrs. Carstairs, why have you avoided
me all dayW
81 did not know had avoided YOU"
"You did" he persists. "You talked TO
every one else, and | was left out in the
cold"
"And If you were;"
The short ungracious words are uttered
with indifference; but, looking at him,
see that the blood has risen to his cheek.
If were ~ he echoes. "That was not
kind speech, Mrs, Carstairs."
"No,'' own frankly, at was not; but
am cross to-day, and so you must forgive
me-"
"Iou are more than cross, you are not
happy" he says in a low voice, looking
down at my face. "As you stood to-day,
receiving all those people, | thought | ney-
or saw you look more beautiful or more
unhappy"
"And what cause have l for unhappi-
nessW | ask with u certain defiant bitter
ness, for his words have struck home,
"That you know best YOURSELF" he an.
swers quietly, "If wealth, beauty, popu-
larity make happiness, YOU Of all people
ought TO possess that chmera. But is
there not Il something more, the one thing
wantingp
My handkerchief ilutlers to the ground;
as he stoops and hands the morsel of lace
back into my keeping, laugh, and he col
ors,
"lou are quite eloquent to-day, Captain
Delacourt. Please 60 on; it is very anus
ing"
lie bites his lip,
"Turn it into satire if you will" he says
shortly. "MS. Carstairs, look here"
see an open pockct-book in his hand,
and between the leaves faded yellow rose.
Some one has given IL TO him; | suppose
some sentimental memory is attached 10
the poor withercd thing.
"WellW | say as he touches It ten
derby.
"Iave you forgotten this roseY" he asks,
80 meaningly that raise my eyes in won.
dor a his iupp