McCook weekly tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 188?-1886, 1884-07-03
said something to which she answered

wished he were Hamlet and could lie at
her feet and watch the play.
"Poor Ophelia! divided from herself
and her fair judgment!' (the quotation
was irresistible.) al wonder what sent
her here-some brute OF man, or q
soldier-lover killed at Kassassin. Ora
cious! l hope this terrible Meg Mer-
rides is not going to ask me to dance!"
and he moved away, as he saw wild
eyed woman bearing down upon him,
to seat somewhat nearer the pale girl
with the black-red rose. BOZ
For time he watched her; then he
tried to magnetic her. At last their
eyes met; he stared her full in the face.
She never shrank from his look, only a
sort of plying light seemed to glow in
the sorrowful eyes. A moment passed,
and then she rose quietly and with per-
feet self-possessed grace walked over to
him-to his intense establishment sat
down quietly by his side, and said in q
soft musical voice: 9tt
"You seem sad toll! m sorry"
then he recollected hia insil .tions and
and pulled himself to-otb,'
swell, think I was sad because you
were looking sad.'' -4
"Was 1? I suppose I always do
then. OF course, being here naturally
makes one feel sad. But we won't talk
of that" she added quickly. "Do you
care for dancingp I'll dance with you,
if you like.'' ia
HDancep with voup,,
80 yes, if you like; many of the
others dance, you know"
"How calmly she seems to recognize
her stated" thought Grayton, as he
stood up and passed his arm round
poor Ophelia's waist, wondering how
she would sig and amble.'' They
were playing the sDream-Faces," and
as they swung in undulating rhymth to
the pretty song he felt that few slips of
sane seventeen could come up to her.
"That's right" said the doctor, en-
couragingly; "set good example,"
'sMeans I am to be tonic, SUPPOSE"
thought Grayton; so he carried off
Ophelia for an ice. "There now,
there's a spoon and wafer; now you
feel comfortable, don tyou? Isn't that
lovely WaltZ!" ....
"Yes, I'm fond of sDream-Faces;' the
people one meets in dreams are gen.
orally vastly nicer than the real folk.
[ have many dream friends.''
''Have youp'' she said looking
amused "tell me of them"
swell, you know, think I'm mar
ried to dream wlfe-just like Gilbert's
Princess Toto, you know, with her
dream husbadd. And she comes to me
sometimes and scolds me if I've done
anything wrong in the day, and. some
times she's very loving and sometimes
she's cross and doesn't come near me
for weeks" r
He felt as if he was telling fairy
tale to a child.
Chow charming! Do tell me more
of her. Is she beautiful? What is she
like?''
The fanciful conceit seemed to amuse
her, so he went on drawing pictures of
an ideal woman; then growing uncon-
sciously eloquent, he burst out, ssAh, if
one could only meet her alive, what a
wife she would make! A very second
self, aiding, sympathizing, helping,
loving-at once the cheeriest of chums
and the most idolized of idols.''
She had flushed little as he spoke,
but she went on. 'What pretty pic
ture! Where did you get your pretty
thoughts about marriageP"
81 suppose my dream-girl taught
me-"
sis she pretty?"
Grayton wondered if a deliberate
bare-faced compliment would be a
tonic for q lunatic. Yes, beautiful.
She has large brown eyes, wonderful
hair, low voice. an olive oval face,
she dances superbly, and she wears
black-red rose in her white dress.''
Ophelia looked little frightened.
"Forgive me, I didn't mean to be
rude, but she is-really, you are not
angry with me?" and he laid his hand
gently on hers.
ssOh, no." and then there was a
pause.
"Come, let me show you some pic
lures; I'm something of an artist my
SELF" and she led him into a long gal
lery, and talked art so sensibly and
alphabetically that here, at all events
he felt there was a very pleasant meth
cd in her madness.
'sTalking art'' is recognized method
of interchanging sympathies.
He was no bad judge of a picture;
but he preferred to affect ignorance,
and asked the stupidest questions SIM
ply for the pleasure of hearing her talk.
There was kind of innocent dignity
about her that fascinated him. She
was more like Vestal virgin than
Bacchante. So the evening passed all
too quickly till he suddenly bethought
himself that there was an important
division in the Lords that night, and
that he was bound to be a ''not con-
tent" before the clock struck eleven,
and after that he was due at Lady Con-
gletoh's dance.
"Must you 60 away?" she said,
''whyP"
"Well, you see, I'm one of those
much abused people that the radicals