Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1885-01-20
Gales aud Skttehes.
A STRANGE LOVE-LETTER.

tale, on the Riva degli Schiavoni, in We
nice, sat, one evening in September. a
middle aged Englishman. He was tall,
spare man, with thin, sunburned face,
greyish hair. well-cut features. fierce
mustache. and pair of kind grey eyes:
1t was a glorious evening. All Venice
was out of doors. In the Piazza of St.
Mark the band was playing, and crowds
were promenading; around tables, at the
Cafe Florian and the Cafe Quadri. were
officers, ladies', cosmopolitan artists, tour
lists, and middle class Venetians; vendors
of evening papers were plying brisk
trade flower-girls were exchanging bou-
quets for half-pence; gayer. or bright
er, or more quickly changing scene 1t
would be difficult to imagine. The Cafe
Orientale, though not far removed from
this resort of fashion. presented sedate
and unpretentious air. Here gay uniforms
were the exception. Prosy-looking elder
" civilians chatted, slipped coffee and
cognac, and matched their skill in games
of chess; a sprinkling of such artists as
disdained the attractions of the Piazza
were to be seen and heard, lounging on
accustomed seats, and discussing art and
cigarettes a certain number of Americans
tan rendezvous; and some workmen in
blouses had put in an appearance, bring
ing with them wives, sisters, daughters,
or SweetheartS.
Our Englishman slipped his coffee, and
conned his newspaper with the air of an
babitue; when he lifted his head from its
printed columns to watch the cloud of
smoke from his cigar disappear in the air,
or to glance over the moon illumined wa
ter before the Riva, his expression of
countenance testified familiarity with the
scene before him. Truth to tell. the Eng-'
lishman-his name was Henry Courtney
had occupied the same corner. under the
awning, among chess players, cotfee-drink-
ING readers and conversationalists, evening
after evening, for more months than care
to count. Venetlans had begun to look
upon him as Venetian institution. He
knew every inch of their town by heart.
He had poked his investigating British
nose into every narrow Gale and INSIGHT
icant am)o; he had explored remote
church es and comparatively unknown
galleries he was as full of information
as a guide-bOok on the merits and de-
merits of different shops, restaurants and
hotels. His neutrality-suspicious. and
general extended itself to num-
erous other continental towns. And
yet, while essentially traveller, he was
essentially a travelled Englishman. The
cut of his clothes and the shape Of his
boots proclaimed London origin; the
newspaper in which he had buried his
face was the leading English journal, and
his accent, when he called to waiter in
| Fol lion rlacS Of aH,nittoH
doubt as to his nationality.
| Excuse mean | addressing Mr.
Courtney?"
Down went the newspaper. Courtney
looked up with the halt aggrieved. wholly
surprised air common to his countrymen,
when spoken to by a stranger. Court
ney is my name," he answered. shortly. a
shade OF resentment in his voice. But the
corresponding shade of resentment van
ished from his face when his eyes met
those of the interrogation. He found him.
self addressed by a young man who had
just taken a seat near him, and who was
of singularly attractive appearance. The
new conner obviously British tourist of
the better class-was tall and well made :;
he had good carriage. an air of good
breeding, a frank, boyish face. close curl
ing yellow hair, and a pleasant smile
Courtney is my name" repeated the
Englishman, relaxing visibly. "Can do
anything for you?'
"Well, yes, you can You know Crib
ble-Frank Gribble of the Twelfth Hus.
sars ?"
Yes. know Frank Gribble-well? "
MY name is Edwardes. I have
brought''-teeling in his pocket for let
ter. which he produced and handed to his
neighbor-''a letter of introduction from
| Gribble. whom | left the other day in
Florence. intended giving myself the
| pleasure of calling on YOU tomorrow. But
heard that should find you at the ORR
entale. A waiter pointed you out to me.
and thought that you would allow me to
introduce myself at once"
Courtney bowed; he adjusted pair of
spectacles. took his cigar from his mouth
and read the letter in slow, elderly fash
ion, which contrasted with the evident
eagerness of his new friend.
Can do anything for you, Mr.. Ed
wardesp" he asked, again, as he returned
the letter to the envelope and his cigar to
his lips. Then, as if conscious of an
omission, he added with old-fashioned
formality, and with stiff little bow, Il
am happy to make the acquaintance of
Frank Gribble's friend"
Thank you-yes, you can do me a IA
vor if you will. want you" the young
man bent his head low and professed to be
engaged in minute inspection of his fin
er-nails-"to introduce me to Mr.. KENYON
the Mr. Kenyon whose family is now in
Venice. Pm sure that YOU know him, for
-tor-I saw you speaking this afternoon,
in the Piazza to the ladies of his party ~
Courtney lifted his eyebrows. know
Mr.. KENYON know Tom KENYON!
have known him all my life; he is nv
oldest and best friend"
And you will introduce me to him,
Mr. Courtney? l shall be exceedingly
obliged"
The family seems already known to
you by sight"
Yes; but it was only yesterday, bv
accident that | learned their names. /
have seen them in the Piazza, in the Eng
fish church, here. there, and everywhere
in Venice. Of course remarked them !;
they-the ladies, mean-cannot fail to
attract attention. wherever they chance to
| be-"
Il suppose not" Courtney gave a
quick searching, something like an appre-
hensive glance towards the hand some
| yOunp face beside him tban b;s oros r,,,