The Bozeman weekly chronicle. (Bozeman, Mont.) 1883-1889, 1885-03-11
PLAYING WITH FIRE.

OeHedIH gray SIliltS ne COulu I6du Y
hollow hearts. Beneath the happies
looking face he read of a yearning TO
something higher and better.
Some one touched him on the shoul
der. He turned and met an outstretch
ed hand. f.1rf l.E
"How are you, old fellow?" cried
glad honestfYoiee. ,''YOn didn't thinl
of seeing me here tonight, did your"
IL reallydid not, answered Roth
ermel ''But / am glad to see you
Just the same, for all did not expec
it." and the two men shook hand!
warmly, with welcoming smile il
their faces.
Max Rothermel( and Roy Kirk were
steadfast, earnest friends, Damon and
Pythias, some rcalled them. They
were together great deal. Rotherm.
ell was not thenan to give his friend
ship to everybody; when he met Roy
Kirk he liked him, and ON better &C.
quaintance he found that there were
noble qualities in his character which
he could help develop. Kirk was a
man who could appreciate the friend
ship which such man as Rothermel
could give, and hewas grateful for it.
They stood there and watched the
scene. Suddenly Kirk started.
Il see Miss Wier is here" he said.
81 have been looking for her and have
just discovered her. She is sitting in
that bay window. Isn't she loveIy?''
Roahermel looked in the direction
Kirk indicated. In the recess of a deep
window, filled with blossoming plants,
a woman sat. She was fair of face,
with a soft rose color in her cheeks.
Her hair was of tawny gold. with
white flowers holding it back from the
face it framed A dress of thin, float
ing stuff, of pale sea-green, with white,
frosty lace at throat and wrists, height
ened the exquisite beauty of which
Sybil Wier was the possessor.
''She is a beautiful woman" answer
ed Rothermel. ''But there seems
something lacking about her face, after
all. 1t is cold"
eff we're an artist, would paint
her as she looks now. She would
make a beautiful picture of spring."
said Kirk, watching her with his heart
in his face. Everybody knew that he
She hasn't warmth enough about
her for an ideal of Summer, answered
Rothermel. Summer is spring with a
soul in it Miss Wier seems to me
woman without soul, in one sense of
the word. use the word in the mean
ing which implies strong, deep pas
sion. That which gives life zest, and
something to live and work for; she
doesn't look to me like woman who
has ever felt any very strong and ear
nest impulses. She hasn't awakened
to knowledge of herself yet When
she does the soul will come into her
face, and the beautiful marble will be
come q thing of life"
"Ithink she is the loveliest woman
l ever knew" persisted Kirk.
Doubtless, answered Rothermel,
with a smile. Your face tells as
much"
just then Miss Wier turned her won
dertui eyes toward them, and seeing
Roy. beckoned him TO her side.
'There goes young Kirk, a gentle
man said near Rothermel. ''He is the
latest of Miss Wier's victims. She
cares no more for him than she did for
Lander, and Lander had wealth to rec
Ommend him, which Kirk Mas not. 1t
must be she wins hearts for the amuse-
ment of the thing. She has had the
most eligible offer of the season and re-
fused it."
Watching them, Rothermel saw Kirk
and Miss Wier go off toward the con-
servatory. Half an hour later, in the
hall. he met his friend. But the light
had vanished from his face
81 was deceived in her, Rothermel,"
he said, grasping his friends hand.
she did not care for me; l was only a
poor, blind dupe. Pity me, Max! ]
loved that woman as could never love
another one, and the blow she gave me
just now is cruel one"
81 do pity you" Rothermel said.
Forget her; she was not worthy of
YOU"
cit is easier to sag forget than do
It," Kirk answered. ''And / believed
her to be the truest woman in the
world! How could be so blindT"
Poor Roy Kirk! He wasn't the first
man in the world who has been blind |
ed by wonan's witching smiles. l |
don't think he was the last.
The delicious strains of Weber's
Last Waltz fiOated out upon the night,
and the dancers fioated off down the
room to its weird, sweet melody.
Max Rothermel stood apart from the
ooker' son, but felt that he was not
alone, without looking up.
Some one touched him on mis- arm.
Then he lifted his eyes and saw Sybil
Wier standing by his side, radiant as
7ision of the moonlight; in white, with
pale, pure pearls shimmering among
Ire lace upon her bosom, and looping
up the yellow masses of her hair. A
ioft color tinged her cheeks. Her eyes
we're full of radiant fire. Looking at
Ter, earnestly, Rothermel thcaght that
It last the soul had come into the wom-
ms face, and his heart beat a trifle
aster as he told himself this.
II ain dying to dance this waltz"
he said. at is my favorite. Aren't
'ou going to ask meP'
..Shall we waltz?" he smiled, and
hen they glided off among the whirl-
nc dancers, his arm about her waist,
lis breath upon her cheek, and his eyes
Ipon her beautiful face, into which that
something had come,
which Rothermel called soul. The
elbow strands of her hair swept across
is breast There was something in
he touch of it that thrilled him strange
:.
Once she lifted her eyes to his, as if
ONE influence she could not resist COM
elled her to do so. But beneath his
axe she dropped them, while wave
4 color stained her cheeks.
Max Rothermel smiled, and there
yas trinmuh in his smile. At last (be
Did hlmseIi) he had won tins womans
cart, and he held it in his hand, as
be- bad held Roy Kinks. He could
aVela sweet revenge for the wrong she
ad done his friend.
The dance was done, and they stroll
d out, and down the path to the sea.
be waves broke in upon the beach in
slow and solemn monotone. Far off
long the white line of the horizon
hastily, shadowy sails glided by. The
trains of merry music came floating to ;
hem on the wind.