Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1886-04-25

find the Queen Of Beauty for ouce with
out her court"
"The Queen +? oh. me-" stammered.
What a fool was ! ] never used to be
sby; was not q stammering school,
eiil TO others. / wouldn't be to him.
!" Alb, ! an Venus yictrix; like Sabi-
IA, ] put to fight my adorers." making
an elephantipe effort at wit.
"Yes, you dismissed courtiers with
scant ceremony. Don't look at me
suspiciously, please. have right to
be here. Suppose for moment I am
an extra waiter, hired for the night.
You remember when ! fished up the
ayah, l asked il might some day
name my own reward. | was going to
at Ascot, but | hadn't time. Will
you give me dance 2"
answered as gravely as he spoke,
81 shall be pleased /; as am equally
engaged. will you like the next, or"
and there stopped, stupidity staring at
anything except him.
Are you looking for the badge Of
my trade? You need not. for if all
London goes supperless tonight, shall
wait only on you. Meaina, may tell
you how | love you. how since | first
saw you have found no other face fair
but yours? Do you think, dear, you
can ever care TOR me ?"
Iwonder if people are often as happy
as | was for one short moment. Its
odd, isn't it, one always forgets what
one ought to remember | remarked
wisely. sim not angry, you know {;
but oughtn't you to remember you are
engaged"
"Ah, so I ought, and so ought you"
no answered without n trace Of the
embarrassment he ought to have felt.
~ do, thank you. have never for
gotten,' | said with freezing dignity.
"Then what do you think Of Ryven-
bourn?" he said with undue eager
ness.
II never think at all its too much
trouble. | either know or feel" | began
slowly, to be interrupted quickly.
But you can't know anything about
him ; YOU haven't even seen him"
"No; and don't you see it's only fair
TO him not to think about him?" |
tried to explain, my dignity somehow
vanishing to find my self-composure.
"Miss Verayne, refuse to carry out
such an absurd. nay positively wicked,
contract. And if he demands all your
fortune as a ransom, won't you come to
me? Whatever Ryvenbourn might
think, to me Jim Revere, you are all
that the world holds of life or happi-
ness"
The temptation was great, so great
that / felt unless / took Sterne's advice
and fed, it would conquer me; so |
rose.
And supposing could be dishon-
orable, do you think | would ask or
even let you be so for me?" | said,
looking down to avoid seeing his eyes.
But supposipg | told you Ryven-
bourn was not worthy? And for you,
you must see there can be little dis
honor in breaking off such an en-
gsgement, or else why do men-hon-
orable men as the world goes-propose
to you, knowing Of its existence?"
81 don't know, have nothing to do
with their sense of honor only don't
you ask me, please DON'T" / repeated.
and, foolish as the words were, he saw
| meant them, and obeyed.
At the end Of that dance, as he took
me back to Aunt Alpha, he said gen.
,ly: I" Miss Verayne, forgive me for
speaking. What ! said was all the more
objectionable, because know that
Ryvenbourn would count all else well
lost to gain you"
1t was odd, l ought to have been
miserable, but | wasn't bit. felt
that evening as fanatics may who sacri-
flee happiness, life and all to scruple.
| knew the only man whose opiniod l
cared about thought well Of me and'
what the future might hold was lost in
that golden light. But was downcast
enough when the morning that was to
decide my fate dawned. However
unfiDchipgly ] might yield to my
destiny, there was no need to 60 halfway
TO meet it. If Lord Ryvenbourn might
happily already have the faintest wish
TO release me, nothing on my part
should tempt him to alter his mind.
made my faithful Raj Hahal spend
more ingenuity to arrange my hair
hideously than ever before to beautify
me. 1t was positive pleasure to
choose my plainest dress. Froissart's
Alice of Salisbury could not have
taken more pains to make herself plain
in the eyes of Edward 81 ardemment
cna,me at the famous tourney than
did. | thought | succeeded. AS |
slowly went down stairs Marcus met
me.
Don't forget, Meaina, if you're
free, the first offer. Shall | come with
you? Poor little beauty. What have
you been doing to yourself, you don't
look tit to"
"Be quiet, Marcus, / told you |
hate to be called that" l exclaimed,
nearly crying then | stopped short. If
J had only thought of that and cried
this morning like De Musset, it might
have, no man could have stood
that. But it was too late now, |
had kept him waiting as it was; I
could hardly keep him waiting while |
cried outside the door, even apart from
The fear Of interruption. There was no
help for it, and in went. understand
why orators before making a speech |
sometimes say they feel like a man 60
ing to be hung. With unusual me-
hodical care | closed the door and |
waited until:
Meanina, may l tell you now. |
iear?" murmured Jim Revere as he |
,rew me to the light. my darling, / |
lid not mean to deceive you; 1 went out |
10 meet you and you were so lovely l.
was vain enough to want to win your
ove.n
"You would have done that any,
low," | answered absurdly.
"How lovely you are, dear. Do you
emember Mrs. Barrow saving