The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, 1886-04-27

ing. What should be done2 An idea flash
cd through my head. She was going to
remain there, in this horribly cold wealth
or, without any baggage. The poor little
woman must have her things. I snatched
the three bags, and all her shawls and
wraps, and flung the whole out to q man
standing near the car.
"Give them to that lady over there"
I cried.
The man caught the things, and went
toward the lady at the bookstall. At the
same moment, from the other side of the
train, came my pretty companion in great
perturbation, hustled by a gru1nbling Off
cial, but safely on board, just as the train
moved off. Horror! I had mistaken the
lady traveller; the one at the book-stand
was not the right onc-samc cloak, same
hat, same outlines, but not the same wo-
man! She had scarcely entered the car
when she uttered a cry:
"My things! Some one has stolen my
~things!"
For the first time she looked at mo-
will what an eye! I shall never forget
that look. "No, Madam" I said, ssyour
things arc not stolen; they are-they ore
left ut Tonncrrc!"
cat Tonnerrc! Howe"
I explained everything. Bless me! I
could never describe tho second look she
gave me-but l believe I shall remember
it longer than the first one.
81 nm very sorry, Madam, " stammcred.
81 am greatly distressed, but the motive
was good. I thought you would miss the
train, and you would be cold, and I did not
want you to suffer. Pardon mc-don't fear
for your things. They are in honest hands
"a railway official. At the ncxt station
you can telegraph-I shall telcgraph-we
will tclegraph-wc will soon get them. ALL
you shall have them! Iswcar it, i'll have
to return myself to Tonncrrc to get them"
"That is sufficient, sir" she said. 81
know what I must do"
She sat down, severely twisting her
gloves in wrath. But alas! poor little
thing! She had rccksncd without the cold.
She no longerhad her good warm wraps.
1t was scarcely ten minutes before she
began to shivcr. She shrank into her
self, drew her otter cloak around her fine
form and positively shook.
MADAM" I said, 81 beg upon my
knees that you will accept my shawl!
You will take a cold; it will be my fault,
and l could never console myself in all
my life"
81 do not speak to you, sir" she said,
naughty.
I was furious at having made myself
ridiculous. 'Madam," said :, s'accept
this shawl, or I swear I will jump off the
train"
Throwing the shawl between us I
seized the door-knob.! My air must have
been convincing, for she cried:
"You arc crazy, sir-you arc out of
your headw
Take the shawl-or I shall sprisg OFF,
She took tho shawl, saying: "But
you, sir, you will perish from the cold"
Don't be uneasy about me, madam.
I am not delicate, and even if I should
be cold it would only be a just punish
mcnt for my objectionable stupidity"
"Say for your too great haste, for you
are right-the intention was good, but
how could you take that lady for me?"
because she looked so charming"
She smiled; the ice was broken-the
ice of conversation, for otherwise I shiv-
cred. But how quickly I forgot the cold,
the journey and all! She was delicious,
exquisite, adorable! Dainty, peculiar,
gay and original! She loved travel as I
do. She had been in Italy, like me; in
Spain, like me; she always dreamed of
going to Egypt, like me. In literature,
in music, in every way our tastes were
the same. And then, just imagine-lots
of the same friends. Perhaps I had met
her twenty times without remarking her.
Where was my head2 Heavensl where
was my heada While I eagerly conversed
I did everything in the world not to
have the air of being chilly, but good
Lordl how cold I was! At Dijou my
right foot was numb. We t%clegraphed
to Tonnerre for her things. At Macon
my left foot was numb. We heard from
Tonnerre that her things would be at
Marseillcs next day. At Lyon-Pcrrache
my left hand became inscnsible. She
foroot RI cloiro bar ro,,no3t AfVo1opco