Richland beacon. [volume] (Rayville, La.) 1869-1890, 1888-07-21
"Theu it is settled. If you care to you
NAV take the DhOtOpraDh with you ~

may take the photograph with you"
Thank ycu,' he says. slipping i
into the pocket of his great coat.
Now | am going back to the bread
and butter part of existence There
something almost dreary in the per.
sistency with which one and one are
two, isn't there.'
"There have been cases"-what /,
coquette the girl is!-''there have beer
cases where one and one made one
He has taken her hand to say good
n ght, as she speaks, and a passionate
light comes into his eyes at her words.
"Ah, Cara, he says impulsively, "if
only thought"
Don't think" she answers, consult
the proper mathematical authorities"
On Thursday night Jack. having
made very careful toilet and mislaid
everything with cheerful sense of the
entire responsibility of Betty, the
chsmbermaid, takes a last look at the
! photograph which occupies the place of
honor over his dressing case. before set.
ting out to meet the original. "Some-
thing will probably have happened to
keep her at home-or something.
The e's always hitch somewhere" he
soliloquizes as he leaves the house.
/ 1t is the middle of the first act when
he reaches the box Cara smiles as ne
enters. The rest of the party are COM
/ petely absorbed, but he can see that she
/ is there. Her back is toward him, but
surely only one woman could have hair
| like that, and wear black lace the way
! Sbp Hnaa vank cr1Aoplv hos a.,
ideal costume for woman has always
been made of b!a * lace.
And Cara?' Well, Cara is a very beau
tiful woman, but then she could never
give much love to anyone, and what
emotional gymnastics she would require
of the man to whom she was married
As the curtain falls the orchestra be-
gis "Weber's Last" and Cara motions
him toward her. "Eugenie," she says,
leaning forward. "Eugenie, let me pre-
sent my friend" Jack doesn't hear the
rest. for the lady turns and he sees a
fascinatingly ugly woman with a de-
lightful directness of gaze, who acknowl-
edges the introduction in the middle of
remark which she is making to Lieu
tenant Willoughby. Jack glances ap-
pealingly at Cara, who is rather suspi-
ciously engaged in leisurely survey of
the house through her glasses.
There's Mrs. Dunbar" says Cara's
aunt, leaning forward for better view.
''She has succeeded in engaging her
daughter in the army"
"Did l hear you say" laughs Cara,
THAT her dearest wish is accom-
plished."
"No," says Mrs. Lo-rimer. zone
doesn't say those things, my dear"
"Let us consider, then" says Cara, de-
murely, ''that nc one has spoken
IL have been having something of that
sensation all the evening"" says the lieu
tenant. "Bernhardt's French must be
provincial; can't understand her."
There is little laugh, in the midst of
which Jack pauses abruptly; for in
Mademoisele LeCrOix's face, as she
smiles, he suddenly sees, almost ghost
like, an expression of the Photograph. 1t
is gone before he can be certain, and she
has turned from him to Mrs. Lorrimer,
who is saying plaintively: ~ wish Bern
hardt would play in English
''If some one would suggest it to
her," says Jack, 'she would probably
sit up late one night and learn the Ian
guage."
Ibid l ever tell you," said Eugene,
turning so that Jack again has a full
view of her face, "of an experience l
had when l was first learning your Eng
lishl Nol l was just at the point
where found for myself that you wrote
one language and spoke another, when
one evening | had the good fortune to
meet General Lawson. You know his
reputation as conversationalist, and
wished to convey to him an idea of the
pleasure which l felt at meeting him, so
l said impressively in broken English:
i am glad to meet you, General, as am
making special study of American
idiots" His composure was superb.
He never faltered for moment. His
face had all the calm of one eternal Sab
bath, as he answered, suavely: "This is
the only time in life, mademoiselle, when
l feel that l can fully justify pre-
judged opinion"
Jack watches her while she speaks,
and again sees the subtle something that
reminds him of the picture. A curve to
the cheek, an expression in the eye, an
indefinite something surely suggests it to
him, and yet, as Cara sat listening with
half smile on her lips, she might her
self have been the theme of which the
painting was the finished harmony.
''1f this thing keeps up" said Jack,
my mind will be a mosaic. l shall
speak to Cara about it when I get an
opportunity" But he doesn't get an op-
portunity, for just then Cara announces:
"Ah! there is Helen, now, Eugene, and
our cousin is with her."
He takes long breath and feels him.
self sane man again. Here, at last, is
solution of the problem. A mutual
cousin il the original: nothing more
likely. He returns Cara's glance in a
manner which intimates that he under
stands the situation at last, and awaits
with interest the entrance of the two
ladies. There is little rustic Just out
side the box; mans voice heard i'm q
tone of remonstrance; wOman's low and
self contained, and the lady herself stands
at the door of the box. A woman in the
prime of life, with that repose of manner
which comes after one has found that
things are neither white nor black, but
only neutral tint, and has ceased expect
ing much-one whose social angles have
been rounded into curves. and who is
seldom found holding those unsatisfac-
tory opinions which we denominate "op-
posite."
Mrs. Carter" says Cara.
"Delighted." murmurs Jack.
''Helen will be here in few minutes,
She stopped at the Marstons' box to set
tie about some engagement with them.
Dick will bring her over here"
She seems to have Q great many en-
~aOements with them of late ~ savs Me.