St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1886-12-27

loose from her grasp-I gave one leap to-
wards the door. cried-nO,I did not cry
a shivering tremor ran over my body. had
forgotten the tight pants, and l felt with
horrible diStinctneSs that something had
given way. 1t seemed to me that all
eyes were upon me, and that could hear
smothered laughter But no! it was my
fancy. No one had noticed me in the con-
fusion of arranging the sets, and there was
yet time to escape. Like a flash ran over
in my mind the possible methods. To feign
nose-bleed seemed the only plausible one.
1t was impossible for me to get to the
dressing-rOom without crossing wide,
open space, where would surely be seen.
l hastily put my handkerchief to my nose,
nodded to Emily, and made my way through
the crowd to the dreSsing-room without at
tracing attention, seized my coat and hat
and rushed out into the open air. How
delicious the cool breeze felt on my throb-
bng temples; hurried along, driven by
the raging tumult in my heart. All! the
bitterness of having been deceived! My
| beautiful Emilyr To think that l had
made-up flirt! The thought CALLED me.
''Tll get off on the early train," said to
myself. as | crept int bed. after reaching
Jacks room. The unhappy contents of
Emily'S handbag still lay upon the table.
Ny train of misfortunes and the presence
of those proofs OF her untruthful nature
made the night one long series of evil
dreams.
Il might have whstled till morning for
all of you" were the first words L heard as
l awoke. 1t was broad daylight, and Jack
stood by the bed, grinning at me.
"Why did you run off last EVENING"" he
grumbled, Emily inquired for you dozen
times"
"Emily!" That name gave me strength
again.
Jack" said I, edo you believe in an evil
spirit?" He looked at me moment with a
puzzled expression. do you know to
| whom that handbag belongs?" l continued.
"Why, to some actress, | suppose. judg-
ing from the paint and truck"
Jack" said l, there are some things
in this world that can't be told by word OF
mouth. I'd rather write you all about it.
1t is just 9:35, and the train leaves at 1890.
Send my luggage, and you can lend me
these trousers little longer" added. as l
hurriedly dressed.
Now. you aren't going off this way"
urged Jack: what will Emily say?"
Give her my-nly kindest regards-and
ask her if she will please re-eXchange
valses"
Am l awake or asleep?" cried Jack :;
''this stuff belong to Emily?"
said nothing in reply. and we went
down the stairs in silence. Iwhistled cab
from the corner.
&c. & o. depot Good-by, Jack. you'll
have letter from me by day after tomor
row, sure Good-by. old fellow"
just managed to catch the train. and
only felt easier as knew we were speed
ing away from the city in which l had eX-
perienced such a sad disappointment and
such a fortunate disillusiOn.
Wrote to Emily the same evening, con-
Tossing my utter unwOrthiness. but hoping
at least for her friendship. Jack was the
only person to whom l told the whole of
my adventures. A few days later l re-
ceived from him my own handbag and my
letters to Emily.
Only one thing was missing, the Inflated
poems. had angered woman and she
had her revenge. Two weeks later they
appeared III the Literary Messenger under
My own name.