The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-08-01

for the club. Luckily, I'm off for New York
| this very day"
| in the feminine portion of Mrs Stevenson's fol-
| lowing: hut good many men hung about her
| with renewed interest. Its such witch sort OF
a story, you know" remarked Scott $50 aw-
| fully like French novel"
| POpsie-Popsie the impetuous-bore this state
| of affairs as long as she could, then followed
| Edith to her room and broke out tragically
| 'Oh. tell me all about it, dearest! I'm a jolly
| girl; indeed am. 1t takes lot to shock me-
| I've been four in New York society
| Come" After this peculiar recommendation or
herself as a confdante, Popsie, fairly over
| wrought, began to cry.
Mrs Stevenson patting her hands soothingly,
| said: my dear Popsie, this life of excitement
| is running your nerves You act like crazy
| girl"
Then Popsie. clasping Edith in her arms
sobbed ont wildly: ''Oh, dearest, there's some
frightful mystery. Perhaps he's your brother
in disguise. Oh. say he's your brother in dis
guise!'
Abr said Mrs. Stevenson, after appearing
thoughtful for moment, you're getting ready
for those private theatricas that come IF next
winter. But don't string yourself up SO fright
fully. my dear. There's time enough yet to
practice all the shrieks and all the starts Let
us be rational
Popsie sighed, shook her head dstractedly
and rushed off to Miss Foxs rooms
There" she jerked out between hysterical
sobs, I've done all / can to gain her confidence
| Why, If she'd only own up I'd smooth every
thing over if, of course-oh, dear mew there she
broke down AGAIN., IF there's nothing too dread
| fully bad. There was Nellie Changers horrid
| Irritation with the clerk at Tiffanys-didn't |
| bring her ont of the trouble and didn't society
| have to hold its tongue2 Yes and I'd do much
for Edith What, oh! what is to become of me
next winterl" she walled in despair. II de-
| pended on Edith as my sensation"
| LAS your what?' asked Miss Fox innocenty
| "Why, my sensation. The first year girl
| comes out the bare fact that she is debutante
| gives her prestige enough; but after then she
must do something to keep herself conspicuous
have an adventure, break an engagement
| dress outlandishly or know queer people. OF
course she does not go too far; the thing is to be
remarked. not condemned Why, being belle
| Is business like any other. We have to be
| advertised-keep ourselves before the public
| A friendship with Mrs. Stevenson was exactly
what l needed for her history was just doubtful
| enough to keep people gaping, and gosslplng
| and wondering 1t would have been Popsie
| Bennett and that mysterious Mrs. Stevenson,
| but now-good gracious! I'm afraid the goose has
overstepped the bounds of mystery and given us
| a horrid. undeniable Infamous fact; and after a
weeks abuse of her there won't be atom of
| interest left. My winter plans are all-al Pop
| sic wept copiously) -all-up-upset. What is
| life? Nothing!' Then, as Mrs Whipple hap
| pened to enter the room the girls affectionate
| loyalty to Edith woke again; she laughed with
defiant careessness, and throwing over her
| shoulder the remark, II hate SANDERS" stalked
out
Mr. Belts meanwhile was working up the case
| in a mastery way. The Monday before Philip
| was expected the patrician bachelor could be
| seen in Gibson's quiet bar-room, a neat little
| place at the end of obscure passage and en-
| tirely hid from the sight of ladies' Here he was
plying Herr Bauscher the handsome band mas
ter, with drinks unlimited and excellent cigars.
''rhank you, Mr.. Petts; you vat calls a
| shentleman. Thank you, Will take shust one
| glass more" And ''shust more it was until
the strapping fellow, in fit of maudlin affec-
| ton, insisted on sauting his new found friend
| on both cheeks, which demonstration Mr.. Belts
| bore with kind of hysterical fortitude.
There now; yes, yes. That's a good fellow.
| You've great respect for me, have (pah!) for
| you. So, now! stand up"
Il have more respects for you as have for
anybody. Mr.. Petts, and more love, toO-except
already for lady vat | tells you about some
| day. not yet"
| 'Eh! What97 inquired Mr.. Belts How
about that lady9 Handsome-enf Small-bru-
nette-eh!' he suggested, cunningly.
Mem" answered Bauscher; tail, like a
kaiserinn. gold hair leetle darker as gold.
beautiful grand eyes. She's real lady, tell
you.'
.Ha! believe that, Bauscher.7 returned Mr.
Belts, warmly. You could fancy none but real
| lady. A fine looking chap like you deserves her.
too Go on. She's an Americana"
'Nein," roared Bauscher. delighted at the fat
terry, ''Nein, she's out of Europe Ach! (draw-
|
me- | must shust write a pair lines"
| AS the German wrote, Mr.. Belts took step
nearer to him, then instinctively drew back
Overcome again by the mean temptation, he
| boldly reached across the writer's hand to take
| up glass, from which, with wry face, and
| only by way Of apology to his own sense of
| decency, he drained some brandy. The words
of Bauscher's note Mr.. Belts had easily read.
| They were
Meet me Tuesday midnights on the same
place. When S comes Wednesday this is the
| last time in Long Bay"
Bauscher beckoned hall boy, aud much
drinking having dulled his perceptions his
| whisper was out of control and quite auGbe.
Take this to dat apartment west corner, sec
| ond floor, like pefore Don't eif it to nopody
| but the lady herself. You knows her goot-ehf'
| you bet" answered the boy satisfactorily;
| then steadying himself by the bar and saying:
| Yes, sir; you the mos perfec shenteman
vat already in America genet have" Bauscher
| turned about to once more embrace his friend.
But he casped empty air. Mr.. Belts had gone
to wash from his delicate person the faint of
| Bauscher and the bar. and to report to Mrs.
| Whipple the whole grand success.
How can we manage to have Philip here on
| Tuesday EVENING" she inquired
"A telegram-an alarming telegram, will
| bring him just in time, at a few minutes before
| -" answered Belts.
And" Mrs. Whipple added eagerly 'theres
| a parlor window that's seldom opened which
| gives directly into that little niche from which
| we watched the meeting. Now, to that window
| can bring some witnesses. Of course. poor
dear Philip must have witnesses. OH" and she
east up her eyes, lit seems quite providential
We must never forget Providence. Mr.. Belts
'Never forget" said Belts jeeringy. 60 old
Mother Whipple and that CHASTITY smirk.'"
| Whereupon Mrs. Whipple retorted: Think of
old Betty Belts and "a stupid prig.' Ten times
worse I'm sure. Ha. ha ha. Ten times
worse" And Mr.. Belts ground his teeth at her.
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS..
On Tuesday evening, by half past IL, there
| were unusual movements about Gibson's. First
Mrs. Whipple came creeping down stairs into
the dark, closed-up parlor and opened a certain
window. Then the Misses Carter appeared and
sad, followed Popse Bennett came along by
short PUSHES and sud1e stops that spoke alter
nate eagerness and regret. From the distant
billiard room sauntered Duncan Scott, and with
! him TattY Prime who declared: