The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-09-06
THANKS TO THE FOG.

Ing.
A conscious smile lowered round the yellow
tips of Captain Vivian's mustaches- well, |
don't know, = he said slowly. Mean to take q
look round, and see what is going on
Whatever you do, eschew good looks. Pleas
ant enough, I'll allow, if you could keep them
for your own consumption; but an intolerable
nuisance, as you can't blind your friends"
"Humphl A plain face opposite to you day
after day would be deuced unpleasant"
'Yes, but a beauty is the devil. Poor Corn
wall never got over it, when his wife had once
become the fashion. She took all the individu-
atty out of him, and, as Mrs. CORVALLIS hus-
band, he provided a carpet for other men to
tread on. Have you got any one in your eyer
Vivian blushed like a girl 'I-I-don't know
just yet. It's FIVE years since l saw her"
Thine for a woman to be married over and
over again; or, worse than that, she might have
had the smallpox or lost an eye. What's her
name, and where does she hang outP
The other leaned forward, and lowered his
voice. '.Mind-strict confdence-Mabel Lo-
raine.n
"By Jovel' and Val Forester sat bolt upright,
an expression of dismay passing over his pleas
ant face.
"What are you looking like that fora You are
not hard hita It's not a case OF I'll have her-or
die2n
mo, no, nothing of the sort. " the whiteness of
his cheeks belieing his words. Il was at her
wedding last month
Frank Vivian stopped to pick up the cigar he
had dropped. Her nameF His voice was
calm but hoarse.
Lady Waveriey. Her husband Sir Guy. He
ran a horse for the Derby, but it fell dead lame
before it reached the corner. Have a B. and S'
as Vivian rose In a hurry.
Thanks. Cant stop. Forgotten an appoint
ment. Tia, tai With his hat drawn over his
eyes, he hurried down the steps of the Army and
Navy, up st. James, street into Piccadilly, not
caring in the least where he went, only anxious
to get away from the continual greetings of his
friends.
knowing that romance was a thing to be
sneered at, that true love was a butt for chaff
and contempt, he had buried his dream in the
depths Of his heart, and firted with the Cal
cutta bellies as gayly as the rest of his brother
officers.
Now it was all over-the dream as we'll as the
hope of realization: He had thought that even
in this prosaic age he had found one verse of
poetry; but the page was a blank, and the verse
if ever written by any other pen than his own
conceit, had been most carefully erased. Unless
to pull a wry face for other men to laugh at;
better to grin and bear it, telling himself that
matrimony was ever a lottery and the greatest
prizes had a knackof turning out far worse than
blanks.
It was the first night of the pearl of opera
singers after a lengthy absence, and Covent Gar
den was crammed from the stalls to the ceiling.
The second act was over, and Vivian stood up i'll
the third row of stalls to let his glasses wander
round the house on a voyage of discovery. A
friend tapped him on the shoulder. sLook at
\ Waverley. He doesn't look much amiss, although
he's just passed through that grave of the affec-
tions, a honeymoon. His wife's a sumner, and
not a bit stand ofish, so they say. Couldn't see
her on her wedding day, her veil had such a
beastly pattern; but tonight, by George, she re-
pays you'll" A pause: shes smiling at one of
u.s. e~xcitedly. you don't know her, SO it must
be me. Let US go up; I'll introduce you
A bitter smile lowered around Vivian's mouth.
but he said nothing. She chose to smile at him
with the ~prettiest lips in the world, with the
same blush as when they parted so miserably
under the trees, but his face was grave and i'm
passive. Looking over his shoulder, before he
disappeared through the doorway, he saw that
an old man with gray hair had taken Sir Guys
place in the front of the box. With Darlington
on one side, this stranger on the other, there
would be no opportunity for private converse
ton, but he felt it was worth the journey from
India only to stand within sound of her voice,
within reach of the glance Of her eye-worth a
large sum In pounds, shillings, and pence,
although to hear her was torture, to see her,
madness. Love must be very bad for us when
it turns the wisest among us into fools.
On their way they met the 8baronet himself,
slipping into his overcoat as he came toward
them.
How do, Dorrington-pretty fiji"
Gas fit as yourself. was just going. round to
pay my respects to Lady Waverley. Ny friend,
Captain Vivian" (Sir Guy raised his hat) lis
dying to be introduced
$50 sorry you can't see her; but she's laid up
with a headache. Come we'll have a smoke
With a blank face they turned round, thinking
a cigarette a poor consolation for their disap-
pointment
ssThe fellow can't be jealous Of me already
ruminated Frank, unless she told him what
she is sure to make a point of forgetting. /
thought she seemed to want me; but women are
queer creatures-prone to beckon one minute,
and turn the cold shoulder if you venture to
come. | won't have anything to do with them;
I'll be hanged if I bother myself about them
again, he added energetically, as he threw the
end of his cigar on the steps.
Nevertheless. he was conscious of every move
ment in the Waverleys' box, and his indignation
rose sky-high as he saw man after man admitted
during the course of the evening. Patti sang
her sweetest, but he scarcely heard her. A
pretty girl, a great ally of his before he started
for India, looked over her shoulder with a mile
which would have induced any other man to take
up only too gladly the broken thread of a past
Irritation, but he remained as unresponsive as a
block of stone.
On leaving the theater he refused all invita-
lions to enticing little suppers, such as used to
have q special charm for him when he was in the
vein for amusement, and early the next morning
started for his home in Cornwall, in apronounced
fit of sulks.
$50 Captain Vivian, the faithful and fascinat-
ing Lancer, has returned to the field of his
former conquests, and poor Charles last chance
is gone,' said Lady Waverley, looking up into
her cousins serious face, with a mischievous
twinkle in her eyes.
Captain Vivian, to judge from the way his
coat sets, is faithful to his tailor, but there his
fidelity ends. Poor Mary Armstrong, who sat
just in front of him, nearly dislocated her
stumpy little neck in her efforts to look at him,
and he didn't know she was there
.'Flattering to you, my dear, at any rate
81 don't see why" drawing up her own neck,
/ - - - -L ut -.A- 49,
much occupied with the dear cid General to
notice him.
"Then perhaps he was not so cruel to Mary as
you fancied" a small smile lowering round her
pretty lips.
HE bowed to her once, but that was all91
How could Won tell il Won didn't look at