Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1888-04-08
ooh, not I. / can't sing note," he

Dut tneu you can WtltS pcettyy nnu
that ia even better"
"Verse poetry" he said, in
quick disclaimer that seemed TO me to
be sincere-not the orthodox sham hu-
mility 81 wish that wretched volume
had never been published it baunts
me wherever 60. Please do not allude
to il again"
but YOU ought TO be proud Of it. L
knew some OF the poems by heart, '" she
said kindly 81 have even ventured to
set one OF them 10 music. a Little
Maid, you know. II is my favorite,"
He would be superhuman not to have
felt flattercd, not only by the words, but
by the subtle charms a clever woman can
exhibit in voice and manner. and when
she sang his own poetry 10 him in a
clear, sweet contralto. his subjugation
was completed. began to feel dc trop,
and wondered what the little girl thought
of il all-poor insignificant Cinderella J
When joined her she was sitting on
the balcony, looking into the room at
Mrs. Charleton and her poet. She gave
me shy little smile when l sat by her
side, and then her eyes few back to the
piano.
She is not so like all the rest OF the
world as thought ; she would be very
pretty il she were not so white and thin
and so dinghy dressed. She has a nice
little nose and mouth and q smile like a
cherub. am sure if / were the poet L
should be in love with her, too, and
never tire Of kissing her baby lips. AS
for her great child-like blue eyes-well,
well, see / shall soon have to take to
writing novels if go on at this rate. 1t
is only out OF pity for You, In the
solitude scarlet-feyer has banished you
to, that allow my pen to meander on
in this old-maidish fashion.
Dulcie did not speak to me for some
minutes. but sat gazing at Mrs. Charlie
ton with alteration written all over her
face. Then suddenly she turned to me
and said in soft little voice:
"Isn't she beautiful !
every" said. Is she as good as
she is beautiful ?"
"Oh, yes; quite. never knew any
one so kind and good and clever. She
can do everything. Her name is Ruby.
Does not it suit her? She is Just like q
rich flashing ruby"
Evidently my little friend has the
bump of veneration largely developed.
I hope her admiration is not misplaced.
and that Aubrey ST Quintin does not
share it too much.
"Don't you sing yourself. Miss
Meade ?" / asked.
"Oh mo- can't do anything. | am
stupid, she said, quite simply.
"But you play? Come, you cannot
deny that, because l know you go every
day to teach the little Harrington chill
dren."
at is very easy to teach small chill
dren."
al beg your pardon-not at all. 1t is
a great art II; It wants a patience, tact
that some people can never learn. 1t
must be very firing for you. You look
as il you ought to do nothing but be
petted and waited on all day
at is no use minding being tired, !"
she said rather sadly, but laughed di-
rectly afterward, adding, "And l like
teaching sometimes. The idea Of me
being waited on-dear me, should hate
it. / have always had to wait on other
people"
Poor little thing" said compass.
slonately.
Like all elderly bachelors 1 have
weakness for little girls like Dulcie, and
I began to take quite fatherly interest
in her.
"Oh, 1 don't mind" she answered
brightly. II am very happy. Every
one is 60 kind. Mrs. Charleton-and
Mr.. ST Quintin."
1.-THE poet? I must read his book
before 1 can Judge him fairly"
He is the cleverest man | ever met, "
she said, with tender pride that must
have bewitched Aubrey st. Quintin
could he have heard her; "and his
poems are lovely. l have got them-I
will lend them to you if you like"
Altogether, by the end of the eve
ming we had become excellent friends.
1t will interest me, while | am here, to
watch the progress these young people
make in their courtship. II l can trust
my eyes, they are already engaged sub
rosa, and think each other perfection.
MALCOLM FRAZER, ESQ.,, TO MISS FRAZER.
SEPTEMBER 9TH.
So you are interested in my character
sketches, are you? But, indiscreet Ma
bel, you have nearly forfeited all conf
dences by your vile insinuations con
corning "lovely young widows" and
"the vanity inherent in soft-hearted old
bachelors. Never jump to hasty con-
illusions, for you may overlap facts
and alight on the unreliable soil of fancy,
as in this case. Know, inquisitive little
sister, that / am impervious to all the
poisoned shafts that ever were loosed
upon man by woman. have found my
mistress, and no time can be called lost
that is spent in pursuit of her. You will
argue that it is waste of time to chase
what can never be overtaken, and that
knowledge forever fees those that pur-
sue her. True, o sapient one But
YOU overlook the roses that are gathered
as We follow in her feeting footsteps.
and no arguments from your impatient
pen will ever make me swerve from my
allegiance.
l am invulnerable to the siren S charm;
but not so, l imagine, the poet. In
stead Of looking in the face of his little
girl love, be gazes, with the unabashed
efrontery of adoring youth at the bril-
liant beauty OF our fine lady, Mrs.
Charleton. If she guesses what is going
on, it is unkind of her not to spare him.
But / believe the admiration is partly
mutual, and that our flashing ruby does
not disdain the worship Of 80 interesting
subject as Aubrey st. Quintin.
And what of Cinderella?
Good little Cinderella-why, she is in
nocence itself--goes into rapturous
praises of Mrs. Charleton to the poet,
into rapturous praises of the poet to Mrs
Chsrleton.
You will wonder what place 1 can find
in this trio. l confess that am like a
dusty old folio among elegant modern
editions ale lure, and that l serve the
purpose Of mere utility. / make the
fourth wheel to the coach and prevent
that inconvenient number which is said
l. i