The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-02-19

'Oh, haven't begun to starve yet, re.
! turned Cunlitfe, in the ironic tone that he
/ had fallen into the habit of using, when re-
ferring to himself. My friends continue to
invite me to dinner, because they don't know
that am four-tifths poorer than | used to
be-"
Are your club dues paidn'
They won't be called for until next Jan
uary, and then can pretend forgetfulness
for month or two. BY that time | may
get chance to rob or murder some one and
devote the proceeds to the charitable pur-
pose of paying them"
DO you know, Frank she said, looking
thoughtfully at him, 81 have PRESENT.
ment that there is going to be change in
your luck-that something will happen to
put you back where you were beforel You
were joking about an uncle in California
the other day; why might not something of
the sort come true! You have done moth
ing to deserve this trouble
IF my uncle in California is going to
leave me fortune before next quarter day,
it is high time that he was born; ] have yet to
learn, at least, that that suspicious event
has occurred. Come, my dear, don't let us
talk nonsense. have had presentiments,
too; and perhaps l have been tempted Ia
turn them into realities. Time will show
meanwhile, go and put on your bonnet, like
good girl The Talbots will be expecting
me. / wonder what these good people
would say if they knew they were enter
tanning pauper. Would they kick me outP'
Kitty sighed.
81 don't blame you for being cynical,
Frank" she said; but you needn't mis-
trust John Talbot. He is good fellow.
Y GU have friends, you know. You will al
ways have-friends who would do anything
for you.n
She disappeared in her dressing room,
and Cunlitfe took up the paper and ran his
eye over it till she returned, dressed for the
street. By that time he had regained his
equanimity and good humor. Being no
longer thus preoccuped, he fancied he per-
ceived subdued excitement in Kitty's man
ner that he had not had leisure TO notice
before. Her gray eyes looked dark and
bright
'How well that bonnet becomes you,
Kitty" he said. "What fine girl you are,
anyhow! | declare, Tin proud to be on the
street with you. Some fellow will be com
ing in and stealing you away from me be-
fore long"
is that proposition accidental or pre-
meditatedF she asked, with peculiar
smile.
what do you mean"
"Well, l was just going to tell you
something, and it came in SO aptly. The
fact isl really have got an admirer at
last.n
''You speak as if you expected me to be
surprised. Don't tell you that I've been
expecting it ever since you went ons VINO
is he's l want to kill hinp'
Kill him for thinking me nices That's
severe on him-and me"
'You know what mean. The impertinent
young whipper-snapperl hope you boxed
his ears, at leastr'
He isn't the kind of man to be boxed
on the ear" she rejoined, laughing. mo
body would ever think of such thing"
ooh, he is fascinating, is he. Worse and
worsel''
He is a very agreeable and intellectual
gentleman"
THE deuce Is he anyone I know"
81 think not. He is an officer of the reg
ular army-Gen. Stuart Weymouth
"a General in the regular army! He can
be no chicken, thenm
'No, not exactly. He is about So, sup
posen
"Oh! Is he wealthy?"
81 haven't asked him; but imagine he is
not. He was wounded in the war, and is
living on half pay, or pension, or what
ever they give them"
"a battle-scarred veteran, eha Is be fine
lookingF
He is tall and soldierly- looking, with
dark eyes and a gray moustache He is
rather eccentric; he is entirely alone in the
world, he says, and knows very few people
He lives in a couple of rooms in a lodging
house on Irving Place. But years ago he
used to be quite a prominent parsonage. He
has met all the distinguished people of the
day He used to be acquainted with Mr.
Golding, and Mr.. Golding offered him $50,
OO0 a year to let his name be used as Presi-
dent of company. But l will tell you the
rest some other time. Here we are at the
Talbots'"