The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1883-10-27

| VIII tell ner Wnat ne tDlnke Of her, and
how she has wilfullY broken his heart
and ruined bis life.
At dinner he Is compelled to meet her;
bat everybody being present, his exceed
ingly cold greeting passes unDoticed by
all except by Dorothy herself She cam
not mistake the change in his whole de.
meanor. Where IL the tender pressure
Of his hand to which she had become ac-
customed' Why did he come at all if he
is still filled with bitter thoughts' There
Is some faint comfort in the remembrance
that she did not ask him to return.
But what has become of the pressing
business1 Why has be come back in such
hot haste9
He carefully avoided her all the even.
ing and next morning at breakfast Ms, if
possible, more markedly cold and dis
tant toward her.
She is saddened and disheartened: but
pride comes 10 the rescue, She decides
in herself that she will show him how
little she has taken to heart his coldnees
and indifference.
Never before, perhaps, as during this
interminable day Miss Bohun appeared
so gay. 80 bright, so full of life and
spirits; and yet in the solitude of her
own room, while dressing for this luck.
less play she shed many bitter tear.
At nine o'clock the curtain rises. The
guests settle themselves in their seats and
prepare for anything.
Miss Rodney. nrrayed in a very ex.
quisite costume, fresh from Worth, ap-
pears before the audience, simpering
aud gFimacing and doing her utmost to
initiate real live countess, while in
reality she only succeeds In resembling o
very inferior soubrette.
While Miss Faulkner, from the hall,
who is in private life her intimate friend
now makes poor pretence of waiting
upon her as confidential maid, and rem.
ders herself perfectly ridiculous by Civ
ing herself sufficient airs for half dozen
couptesses.
Both are distinct failure. Everybody
tries to applaud, but disparaging remarks
fall lightly the air.
The faint applause brings to life two
hardy veterans, who, for some time past
have given themselves gratis to the open
arms of Morpheus, and have contentedly
reclined therein.
Il think Miss Rodey has better
chance of getting off than the girl in
green,' sleepily drawls number one.
do your replies number two. "well
I'm not much Of judge about that sort
of thing; but my opinion is neither will
get of before the other You see, my
dear fellow, when women are born with
talent for acting like those two-tw
tyros, they don't get easily settled in
life."
Then the curtain draws up for the se-
copd time, and somebody comes slowly
on to the stage-somebody who sets Cy-
ril's pulses swiftly throbbing.
1t is Dorothy. She Is very pale, and
her eyes arc q little languid; but she is
just degree lovelier than she ever was
befote.f
Disney hardly hears how the play pro.
crosses. Not q syllable makes itself
heard to him; he can only tell himself
how lovely she is looking, and that she
is false as she is fair,
Her eyes are on the ground; but sud
denly some words strike upon his ear
words that bring back to him a scene
fraught with grief and anger. He starts.
and lifts his head. and for the first time
eagerly regards the players.
Ponsonby Is on his knees before her.
He is holding her hands. His whole
attitude is as it was that fatal afternoon
in the conservatory. He is again pour
iug forth his soul in words Of e1trava.
gent passion.
And then Dorothy's voice rises clear
but sad, and devoid of the warmth that
had characterized it during the rehearsal.
"Mv heart has long been in your keep
ing and II you wish II, it is yours"
As she finishes her speech she raises
her eyes and fixes them steadily, and
with keenest reproaeh. on Disney, who
returns her gaze. with eyes full Of con-
triton.
Then the scene changes and Miss
Bohum makes her exit, amid applaud
ings loud and deep.
The oourtain drops; so, I may almost
say. does Disney. How bitterly he now
repents his objectionable jealousy
Where shall he hide himself from Dor
othy's justly reproaehful gael
Nothing he can ever do will make her
forgive him-of that fact be feels assured;
and he calls to mind the happy days
that have been, remembrance sits npon
him like BAN" he feels "they should
beware who charges lay in love-"
''Yet in spite Of his despair, he deter
mines to make an effort to regain his lost
position.
He will go to her. Rising suddenly,
he follows her to the green room, where
he knows she must be.
She is there. and alone.
Dorothy" he says, entTeatingly.
She turns with start.
"Can you spare a few moments2"
Can you wait until the morning, or
is it a matter Of lite and deathl she
speaks very coldly.
That your answer shall decide"
my answer"
YES" Going up TO her he takes
both her hands in bis. aud holding them
in close clasp, says, eagerly; Darling
l have been fool, a brute. everything
unpardsnablel Anything you could say
to me would not be hard enough. Twill