The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1882-08-31
A wOOING By PROXY.

She is leaning back in a deep Grim
son chair, with white dress sweeping
In long shining folds about her. Sht
IS talking to two or three men will
that rather weary grace he has grown
accustomed to see in her, and which is
SO different from the joyous smiles Of
the Jeanne de Beaujen whom he hat
loved so long ago. He is watching hel
from the opposite side of the salon a.
he stands beside his hostess, and he
tells himself it is for the last time. He
is going to her presently and he knows
just how coldly she will raise the dark
eyes that once never met his without
confessing that she loved him. He
knows just what he will say and what
she will answer, and there is no need
OF haste in this last scene Of his tragedy,
ga man should know when he is
beaten" he is thinking, while he smiles
vaguely in reply to Madame De Soule's
commonplaces. "There is more stu
pidity than courage in not accepting a
defeat while there is yet time to retreat
with some dignity. For six weeks /
have shown her, with directness that
has, dare say, been amusing to our
mutual friends, that after ten years
absence my only object in returning to
Paris is her society. She cannot avoid
meeting me in public, but she has
steadily refused to receive me when
call upon her or to permit me word
with her alone. / have been a fool to
forget that all these years in which
have regretted her she has naturally
despised me, but at least it is not Just
of her to refuse me hearing" The
moment he has been waiting for is
come. The little court about her dis
reTses until there is but one man be-
side her, and she glances around with
a look Of mild appeal against the con-
'tinaance of his society.
De Palissier has escaped from his
hostess in an instant, and the next he
is murmuring, with the faintest sus-
picion Of tremor in his voice, "Will
Madame De Miramon permit me
dancer"
Thanks, M. De Palissier, but am
not dancing this evening"" she replies,
with exactly the glance and tone he
expects.
"Will madame give me a few mo-
ments serious conversation ?" and this
time the tremor is distinct, for even
the nineteenth century horror of melo-
drama cannot keep mans nerves
quite steady when he is asking a ques-
ton on which his whole future de-
pends.
zone does not come to balls for
serious conversation" she begins,
Iightly.
"WhSre may come, then?" he in
terrupts, eagerly.
"Nowhere. There is no need for
serious conversation between us, M. De
Ralissier," she replies, haughtily, and
rising she takes the arm of the much
edited gentleman beside her and moves
away.
1t is all as he has prophesied to him
self, and yet for a moment the lights
swim dizzily before him and the pas
sionate sweetness of that Strauss waltz
the band is playing stabs his heart like
a knife. For moment he does not |
realize that he is standing quite mo-
gazing, with despair in his
eyes, dlICl bC Iull , |
slender white-clad figure, and that two
OF three people, who have seen and |
heard, are looking at him with that
amused pity which sentimental ca
tastrophes always inspire in the spec
tators.
Some one touches his arm presently |
with her fan, and with start he |
comes to himself and recognizes Lu-
cille De Beaujen, the young sister of
Madame De Miramon, whom he re-
members years ago as child, and with
whom he has danced several times this
winter.
"And our waltz, monsieur?" she
asks, gayly. "Do not tell me you have
it. That is evident enough,
but you should not admit it,"
"Mille pardons, mademoiselle," he
mutters, hurriedly.
"I am very good tonight" she says,
putting her hand on his mechanically
extended arm. "rhough the waltz is
half over, there is still time for you to
get me an ice."
So they make their way through the
salon, she talking lightly and without
pausing for a reply, while he, vaguely
grateful to her for eytricating him
from an awkward position, wonders