The Ouachita telegraph. [volume] (Monroe, La.) 1865-1889, 1886-10-30
S. MONROE. LOUISIANA, SATURDAY. OCTOBER 80. 1885.

1000.
speechless. I was glad TO have old
Weston ask me which I preferred, dry
or sweet wine-it brought me back to
earth.
All that I had been forced to hear
about Miss Weston's beauty had con-
veyed no idea Of her. The German
and Spanish blood 10 her had produced
. style OF beauty that was simply dax-
xlsng. Shall I attempt what all others
have failed In? Shall attempt to tell
how her skin was dark yet clear, and
how her blood came surging close To-
the surface at times, then receded,
leaving only faint aush to mark tts
path? How her jet-black brows shaded
eyes Of Saxon blue, and were In turn
shaded by deep brown hair, wavy,
low, heavy, soft? How the texture OF
her skin made you think of satin, and
marble at once? How everywhere
were curves that fascinated, lines that
Ientranced, grace that soothed, aud ac-
tion that dazzled
"No; these are things to be described
by someone whose experience was not
that Of Mr.. Hobbs.
When reached my room that night
was 10 complicated frame OF mind.
Not that I for one moment doubted
that I should tall victim to the
beauty's charms-n0 thought 40 bold
as that came to comfort me-and yet
was not entirely uncontrolled. had
certainly made . most presentahle ap.
pearance and satisfactory Impression.
That was one comfort. And I had
helped up my end of the conversation
surprisingly we'll.
"Ah," thought I, "these bellies are
matchless Ia their wit, and superior In
their art Of SHARING where they have
the regulation society young men TO
| play with; but 1t is quite different
thing with seasoned and thinking
man. Take reading man, who has
stored his mind with the philosophy
which mocks them, and enriched his
con versational abilities with the subtle
flashes Of cynical wit they find 1t SO
hard to parry; take such man, and
your bellies have little chance against
him. Bless my agitated soul, how we'll
I did talk, and She never got the best
of me that can recall. don't seem
to recall much. Let me see. Well,
we'll! The truttls Miss Weston, dur.
Ing the whole evening spoke just two
words. When passed. her glass of
wine, she said, "Ah, thanks"
Then went to bed.
did not 60 to Honolulu the next
day-I felt the hopelessness Of struggle
II went to the Bakers' dinner instead:
was In q nervously exalted condition.
know that the spell had all my life
fought against was about to be exerted
upon me, and was almost hysterically
anxious for IL to begin. l had no
thought of resistance; 1t was TO me like
drowning in red Burgundy. l wanted
the flood of her adroit verbal foncing,
diplomatic skill, subtle art OF heart
snaring, etc., to pour forth upon me at
once. knew II would overcome me,
but should taste it's delights as II
sank. thanked Mrs. Barker when
she whispered that I should take Miss
Weston down, and blessed her when
che suggested that might even stroll
into the conservatory before dinner
aaud become acquainted" We strolled,
broke silence OF which l was grows
ing very much afraid, as Of an unseen
enemy.
edo you net sometimes think these
9lOXt0lR axe Uulut0'S TeVelS ia tuo
beauty of the throat line" 1 said,
pointing to some beautiful carmine and
purple specimens Of that flower.
"They are real cute" answered the
fair exponent Of the art OF verbal fenc-
ing, gradually drawing off her gloves.
HWhat did you think Of 'Trova-
tore?'" next asked, warily, not quite
Icompreheuding her tactics.
cit was real cunning" said this tor
rible mistress Of tete.a-tete, dropping
both her gloves.
I trembled as picked them up.
"Both gloves at once-this is getting
beyond my depths, but 1t is fate"
thought I.
Holding the long soft kids In my
hand, as If reluctant 10 yield them up,
I, whispered "You dropped them
both; is it the challenge q o,ttrance gu
The beautiful diplomatic OF the heart
gazed wonderfully into my face, put
out small, white, soft hand, gigg,ed
weakly, and said:
). "You just give me my gloves, Mr..