Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1886-05-09

,bs drnrecistory buyers ct the shops
and stalls near the Rialto, and tired his
own inexperienced hand at bargain,
or perhsps he took gondola and was
rowed to the Lido, or some other island
of the Lsgoons, returning 81 sunset
when the gold and crimson Of the sky
were reflected 10 the water. AT table
d,hote be related his adventures to his
peiehbor. who interrupted him with
merry ouestionings, and who some
times, If sho happened to DO In : COM
municative mood, deigncd 70 re-
spond with narrstions Of her own
doipes. All day long David looked for
vaYd 10 the fete-a.tefe Of the dinner
hour. Every evening he went to the
piazza. and marched up and down in
SOLITARY state, his eyes continually ira
Yelling in one and the same direction,
or be sought table at the cafe where
be could furtively watch bis new friend,
who was pretty sure to be in sight In
his letters to Wbitechapel he never
once mentioned her. For one thing,
he did not know her name. Once,
in a ft of more than ordinary Gu
riosity, be had cursorily glanced
through a list Of names in the
"visitors' Book" but among them
all how could he distinguish the one
in which he was interested? The la
dies were known by the waiter frater-
nifty Of the hotel as les danes du MUNRO
ringt-cinq, the number Of their sitting
room. When speaking to his neighbor
David had often had at his tongues tip
downright question concerning her
name, but he had hitherto been too shy
to utter it. lie fully intended to be
holder one day. Meanwhile, in his
verses-she had found her way into
most Of his verses written at this Pc
riod-he chose, for some fanciful rea-
son of his own, to call her Hera."
1t turned out that the length Of the
girls stay in Venice was identical with
David's they were both to leave on
the same day.
On the last evening in Venice David
and Hera found themselves walking to-
gether, and actually unaccompanied,
along the piazza. incoming along in his
usual fashion, the young man had hap
peped to brush against the ladies; as
both he and they were bound for the
3" Apgleterre," it was natural that they
should walk together.
But the elder lady Of the company
was presently bounced upon by an
Italian Countess, who insisted on mo-
nopolizing her attention. David moved
on with Hera he could hear cease
less stream Of foreign-sounding Eng
lish flowing on behind him.
A strange silence came over the
young man. Intently-almost breath
lessly-he watched his companion. She
had drawn off one of her gloves; on
one Of her fingers was ring, with
forget-me-not in turquoises. David
wondered, with touch of utterly I'M
reasonable jealousy, whose hand had
placed it there.
The silence seemed oppressive to the
| girl. "Let us hurry toward the Riva
and see the moonlight on the water"
she said. Moonlight on water is
the most correct Of all Venetian beau
| ties"
Certainly" David tried to shake
off his taciturnity-to emulate his COM
panion's gaiety-but the attempt ended
in failure. lie was obviously dull and
miserable.
Oh, the beauty of the evening-an
evening never to pass from Dayid's
memory! How grand and solemn the
Ducal palace looked in the moonlight
How still was the water, how sweetly
came the sound of singing voices from
the Grand canal On the top Of the
steps of one of the many bridges on
| the Riva both walkers came simulta-
neously to standstill.
$50 this is our last evening in Ven
ice," said the girl, resting her arms on
the top Of the bridge aud looking
musingly down into the water.
"Wby do you tell me that? Surely
know it." burst out David savagely.
The girl glanced up, startled by the
sharpness of his voice.
What's the matter?"
"Ah me Sic transit gloria mundi."
81 beg yeur pardon"
81 beg yours; l was quoting Latin.
What / want to say is that-that-the
prospect of bidding you goodbye is
WELLS the reverse Of an enlivening
one to me-"
"How solemn you are" with a
laugh. "And for no reason at all.
We shall often meet again."
"Shall we?" David leaned his ell
bow on the top of the bridge; he bent
bis head down close to the girls, her
hair almost brushed his cheek.
"Of course" little impatiently.
"My friend and I go to Florence to-
morrow, and, as l told you, am a
great friend of Mrs. Wilton's; look
in upon her every day."
"But I am not going to Mrs. Will
TOMS" David spoke in suppressed
voice he did not raise his head.
| w udt w you hSon'
"What l say. cannot 60 to her
now. ! had not been day in Venice
before I grew aware Of that fact. But
could not-forgive me-resign the
pleasure of staying on here with you.
My expenses at Venice must be re-
funded-somehow-" with grim
smile. " You are going tomorrow ;
then leave the same day for London"
"Good gracious !" The girl raised
herself from her STOPPING position.
"How changeable and incompre-
hensible you are. What has hap
pened since you left home to change
your plans so suddenly"
Everything has happened" Hall
mechanically Hera had moved on a
few PAGES, and David walked beside
her. They descended the bridge steps
and made their way slowly along the
river.
"You know of-you spoke ola
matrimonial scheme for me which was
the cause Of Mrs. Wilton's invitation.
When left home was free it was al
least possible that an introduction to
Miss Balfour might, if my advances
proved acceptable, end in the accom-
| &C xox on~tsa eoko.o- NJ