The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-07-25

birth and breedig were the points upon which he
had the advantage of most republicans. His
quiet yet impressive way of saying. my
fathers house" or my grandfather's will was
as good as a patent of nobility. He always ar
rived at Gioson's sharp on July l. and left for
West Point not q minute before or after the
stroke of noon on September l. 1t was his habit
to sit all day long on Gibsons piazza, inhallng
the sea air for the good OF his health, ana op-
serving, in an emfnently gentlemanllke ana IN
obtrusive manner, everything and everybody
that passed within eyeshot Naturally, III lnlS
way, he picked up a good deal that came useful
on winter days when, at the Foggy Club, CONVEX
v~ersation turned on the peculiarltles and pecca-
dilloes of persons in good social standing.
OF course it is quite superfluous to describe
Gibson's. Everybody has been to Long Bay;
everybody has wondered why a stretch of sea
coast is called a bay" and everybody knows
Gibson's-the picturesque, low-roofed rambling
hotel with its cluster OF dependencies. pretty viii
las known as 'Gibson's Cottages" The great
merit of Gibson's lies in its eXclusiveness; one
meets IN that establishment only the very best
people," There rs a Queen Anne chimney piece
in the wide hall, a spinning wheel in the parlor,
and little eyes of stained glass stare at one from
unnatural heights and out of queer inches and
angles in the walls. The patrons eXclaim, How
duaint!7 and how @sthetic!" and every year
Gibson calls in an architect and orders more O.
them colored winders-don't care where, SOS
they look odd and more zigzags and crooked,
ness. Fhe folks like a house all sort o crazy
like" So the sleek landlord studies, in his way,
the prevailing taste, bows before the
shekels, makes big bills, has them paid
without a murmur (''the place is SO very nice,
you kpow"), and Gibson's is famous. Why,
T~attleton Prime spends his summer there,
keeping UP his reputation as a society wit, and
bringing, beside his good company, two dozen
carefully-studied tennis suits. Then, MISS
Popsie Bennett has persuaded her father to BUY
one of Gibson's cottages, and she almost lives on
the hotel piazzas. Popsie is such a well known
belle that her real Christian name is lost.
Faroni, the photographer, sells her portraits, and
even the newspapers speak of her as Miss
PopsIe.7 Then there are General Carriers
daughters; tall, slender, accomplished, given to
fauJtlessly executed duets, water colors, German
and culture" There is Miss Fox, a kindly
splnster of uncertain age, who prefers Glbsons
to her own fine place at Newport; and there is
Duncan Scott, the languid and elegant, and
there is -. But the list would be too long. AS
Gibson says, when enjoying, among some choice
friends, the midsummer spree. which alona,
saves his mind from giving way under the
pressure of so much genteel propriety: IF
folks as has money and puts on airs don't make
a heightened place, well, what does, I'd hketer-
know?"
OBSERVATION.
Even Gibson himself, who only tolerated what
was indisputably Enlightened, felt rather sorry
for the modest, slender young lady who entered
the lunch-room with Philip Stevenson and came
under the remarks OF the company.
"Ha! so that's the berride. Looks rather
niceish, doesn't she?" said Tatty Prime. 81 used
to know a girl that rode at the cirque in Paris,
and outside of the sawdust she seemed as mild
as milk and as sweet as violets."
What's all this? asked Popsie Bennett, com
ing to the table with her tennis racquet in her
hand. WHO rode at the cirquel"
'Houp. la! Alez! A pair of shoulders like
those" indicating with a glance Mrs. Stevenson's
graceful figure, I've seen many a time behind a
Roman chariot. Pass me the lobster, John"
Mr.. Prime ratified this off in his own rapid, in
consequent fashion, and Popsie exclaimed:
How lovely! Was she really one of those
splendid Bohemian reatures"
Estate secrets" answered Tatty. Nobody
knows; anybody may guess. Look at that, now.
Give a poor old woman a penny" and he held
up a lobster claw curiously folded in his napkin
and made to resemble an old womans face.
Everybody laughed, and Popsie, sitting down
sidewise to the table, said: "Oh, you're so funny,
Tattleton! And did you really see Mrs. Steven
son in the circus9 Oh, be serious, do"
$50 away, child. Don't bother your grand
father answered Tatty, putting on his eye
glasses and porting over a newspaper in imitation
Of a crusty old gentleman.
But, Tattleton, please" begged Popsle, do
you really think she was at the cirque"
Miss Bennett, l prefer not to be Intercepted, "
Prime responded in a deep bass and with the
frown of a stage bandit.
"Oh, you've heard something about her that's
perfectly dreadful and lovely" cried Popsie
ecstaticallv. How delightful to actually have
for a friend somebody who has been something
dreadful; so out of the ordinary, you know. l
shall be introduced straight away after lunch.
Pass the bread, Tattieton." And the hearty
belle proceeded 10 make a good meal.
"Ah." said kindly Miss Fox, whose table was
near Popsie's, I'm sure Mrs. Stevenson looks
very pretty, and very modest. Poor girl! For
my part | don't believe in persecution, and l
shall know Philips wife"
'Of course, ahem! of course" said Mr.. Belts
in an impressive whisper. Decidedly. AS
Philip has made a disinterested and unworldly
choice, it is ourduty to uphold and applaud him.
he gave Miss Fox a peculiarly sweet smile that
| had long been reserved for her alone, but un
luckily for Mr.. Belts the rich spinster was a
woman Of sound sense who knew the value Of
her property.
"'This beggar maid shall be my queen So
swore the King Cophetua," acclaimed Tatty
Prime, using his fork by way of scepter.
Presently Mrs. Whipple appeared carrying the
coQuettish basket Of work which was sword,
shield and buckler in her country campaigns.
If she wished to appear unobservant she kitted
on some bright complication; if people were to
be surprised, she came upon them with, "Oh,
dear, I'm looking for my basket" if she nsd
schemes afoot, she fumbled in it with au limo
Gently perpiexed air. Just now she advanced
lightly tucking some stray ends of crewel into
the wicked trifie, and by chance, as it were,
looked up just when she arrived at Mr.. Steven
sons table. With a start she exclaimed;
What! is that you, Philip Can it be? Yes.
Oh, naughty, naughty boy! Been home SO long
and haven't called on me. And did you enjoy
the year abroadF And "Ah! that's right"
as Philip pronounced: My wife, Mrs:
Stevenson That's right. Married and
settled. That's a good fellow. All,
Mrs. Stevenson, you've caught my favorite boy.
If I'd been a quarter of a century younger Id
have disputed the prize with you. But it's very
nice to see him married after all-very nice
very-ah! very-nice, said Mrs Whipple in a
murmuring diminuendo as she adjusted certain
things about that basket, yet surveyed Mrs.
Stevenson from head to foot. Then, with a
"bye-bye, my dear-see you after lunch" she
ambled off with a step that was as soft as a cats,
yet shook the floor by reason of solid weight.
She stopped a moment to announce to the Misses
Carter, who looked up from their German
novels:
I've spoken to Stevenson's wife, and in a
perfectly friendly way; though, really, the poor