Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1882-05-03
Adricnne Mcintyre.

from The Chicago Tr1bune.
''IOw the wind means, papa"
Strongly cufdled up in a biz armchair, her
tiny feet peeping coyiy beneath the folds Of a
satin dress whose dusky richness shone out in
beautiful contrast to the rosy cheeks and sun
nily-gold hair of it's wearer. Adrienne McIn-
tyre was indeed picture Of bewitching beauty
He to whom she spoke was q man Of erect and
powerful frame, the few silver threads in whose
hair showed that he was turning into the home
stretch OF life But the face of this man. al
though iilnmtned and beautifed by the light of a
holy tender fatiler-love when speaking TO the
girl. was at other times sad enough in the pain
fui rigidity OF its lines. and bow as the ftful
glow OF the open fire caused strange shadows to
leap around the richly furnished room. the face
was given wjerd. fierce look that one sees in
the pictures Of the Vikings while wandering
through the galleries Of the Louvre
The mans off foot moved nneasy and pres
emily he raised it and scratched his other leg
The VIVID moaned again. and the little head
with its mass Of fluffy iaxen hair that was nest
led 80 cunningly within the shapely white arm.
and lay with such pretty contrast on the deep
crimson velvet of the biz arm chair, moved I'M
easily.
"what is the matter with my Kttle pet?"
asked Harold Mcintyre, looking with grave
earnestness at his child.
The girl blushed rosy-red and began chewing
an apple. hut did not reply.
81 see" said the father, CHANGING kindly at his
child; lyon are anxious because one whom
can not hear his fOotstep. Is 1t not So
AdIicnne?'
The girl gave no answer. There was q sud
den lull in the fierce raging of the storm, and
nothing could be heard save the muffled crunch
Ing OF the apple
Presently Asirienne spoke. "Do you blame
me. papa. for being anxious, and heartsck and
lonely because Armand does not Gomez Do
YOU blame me that fOrebodings Of something
dreadful fill my mind when the one whom l
adore. and whose love is my kfe. fails to keep
his trust, fails to show up on schedule timer"
No answer. Again the sound Of the half
munched apple.
Five minutes pass; long, hank minutes that
seem to Adrienne as ifthey never wsuid get by.
Then the father speaks. ANY man" he says,
night like this, when there are plenty of bill
iiard-saioons within block Of his boarding
house, is a chulnp"
ooh. fatherl" cries the girl, ''Do not say that;
you wrong Armand, indeed you do. He may
be thOughtless. and giddv, and even 6iissipated
K heard he smoked cisaret last week. but he
is not chump."
AS she ceases to speak the bel rings. Adr,-
enne runs to the door and filings her arms
around young man. who kisses her with the
Leavftt street warmth.
"You have come at last, darling" the girl
says. getting ready to kiss him again.
yes" he replies but eau not STAY;
must speak to your father at once" Stepping
quickly into the parlor he leads Mr.. Mcintyre
into the shady recess of bay window, and
whispers few words in his ear. The old mans
face lights up with beautiful, chiid-like smile
"All the boys going to be there. you say2" he
whispers to Armand.
Yes" is the muffied reply.
"Half q dollar ante and an oyster supper at
twelve?"
yes"
Going to where Adrienne is sitting OF the fire
the kind father leans over her and says: .My
darling, Armand has Just brought me- sad news.
My old friend and partner in business Ethel
bert Simpson Is dying. and has sent for me.
Armand will show me the way to his house.
Shall not be back until late, and II this fierce
storm. which / almsst fear to face does not
snbside, may stay over IN town all night.
GoOd-by, my precious one," and, kissing her
tenderly. the old man turned away.
"Good-by. darling" said Armand, kneeltng
by Adrienne's side and taking her hand In his.
eYou know how 1t pains me to leave you, bat
duty calls. and must obey"
As the two men reached the gate the father
said to Armand: You are not such q sucker a.
took you to BE- and you shah be married 60
ma On, flno -