Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1889-02-23
SANS DOT.

SANS DOT.
At the Generals reception, when she en-
tered the great ballroom radiant, young,
her pretty shoulders bare, murmur of ad-
miration rose FROM the groups of officers
posing in the doorways. Behind her, her
mother, stately in toilet suggestive of the
provinces, her white curls vibrating with
emotion, as of one who says, Behold my
daughter
Retiring, soft, modest, the father-Col-
onel of the One Hundred and Twenty
third-follows at distance, intent ON
keeping his feet off my lady's train.
As soon as they are seated squad Of
Lieutenants and Captains, the elite of the
garrison of Versailles laced into their full
dress uniforms, mustaches blonde or brown,
eyes deferential or bold, advance quickly
to the assault, and claim place on her
list of dances. Then, IN the golden light
of the crystal chandeliers she begins TO
dance lightly and gracefully to the music.
borne up by the arms of her fathers favor
tie officers, each eager to do her homage.
For them her wishes are orders, her whims
are law. The daughter of the Colonel.
At that time 1t was true of the One
Hundred and Twenty as of all other
regiments, that an officers advancement de-
pended more upon his address in the salon
than his courage on the battlefield. From
time to time, as selections were made for
promotion, it was enough to decide a
mans whole career to have the Colonels
daughter carelessly say word of praise.
And so she kept them all on dress
parade with little air of command at
once imperious and coquettish. She had
thus reached the age of twenty-five in this
somewhat nomadic life, journeying from
garrison to garrison. colors hying. band
playing, and existence continual round
OF gayeties. About this time her mother
began to show signs of uneasiness; she
wished to see her daughter married.
But between the pretty creature and her
suitors frightful barrier existed. 1t is
written in four words; she had no dot
and the officers, flirting, laughing, dancing,
apparently never dreamed of asking her in
marriage.
To please the ColonePs daughter, to re-
live possible advancement through her
influence, certainly. To push forward in
the matter of marrying, ali that was an
other song, and one that no one seemed dis
posed to sing.
Among them none, at least no one worth
naming, ever whistled that tune. But
within the last year the young girl had
had not an admirer, but lover, timid and
trembling, and one whom she openly
sighted. He was big fellow, with red
dish-brown mustache and blue eyes. A ma
tive of Lorraine, he had graduated from
the school of st. Maixeut, and had
seen service. He had been wounded at
Coulmiers, and wore medal of honor.
But as he was not a graduate Of the aristo-
cratic school of St. Cyr his brother officers
treated him with certain amount of con-
deseension. A farmers son, he was robus.
and rosy; poor hand at talking. though
well informed. Brilliant at drill, he com
pletely lost his footing in drawing-room
His dancing was atrocious.
The fear that he might be lacking in
proper politeness to the Colonel's daughter
was the only thing that ever tempted him
to ask her to dance. And he had so mixed
up the figures of the cotillion on that I'M
happy occasion that even the most expert
failed to recognize them. This deplorable
trial had sufficed him, and after that.
rather than face again those mocking ewes
he would gaily march against battery
firing grape and canister. Banished thus
to the friendly shelter of window, he re-
garded for hours the girl he adored, dane
ing with radiant vivacity.
He saw with envy his brother officers
tluttering about the young girl, bending
their straight backs low in their efforts to
make obeisance and show their own figures
to advantage.
In the midst of his gloomy thoughts he
said to himself: "One of these DAYS |
shall hear it whispered through the mess
that she is engaged to marry one of those
fellows, and ali viii be over But alas
for him, his thoughts revolved continually
around that smiling, hooking face. He
saw her always during the long sleepless
night, always turning, radiant and light,
in the transports of the waltz. She
seemed TO beckon him with irritating CO.
quetry, and he thought: ''Who knows +?
She may accept me peutetren
Then his heart gave great THUMBS within
his strong frame and he felt suffocated.
One morning he could stand it no longer.
Life had become unbearable. He sought
out the Major, who had always shown him
some consideration, and begged him TO see
the Colonel, and, without distinctly put
ting the question to discover what sort of
reception an offer of marriage would re-
ceive.
He passed that day in the park watching
the carp in the little Swiss lake as they
darted about in the sunlight. He already
regretted this bold step and saw the future
wholly hung in black That night in the
barrack court the Major took him aside.
and said shortly:
have seen the Colonel. He took
your proposition in good part. Here is his
answer: Your protege hasn't sou, my
daughter has no dot. That would be
marrying hunger to thirst He is right.
Confound it. Don't think of her another
moment. Ii you have any regrets, con-
sole yourself with taetics.v
The Lieutenant thanked him, but he
did not try to console himself, and as thev
needed officers TO send to Tonquin, he vol
unteered and the next week embarked at
Brest. And while ne, heavy-hearted, was
sailing by, tossed on tremendous waves.
the young girl, thoughtless and CAV. con-
tinued to dance under the brilliant chan
deliers, while the flowers breathed forth
their peri1Se and the band played always
Later the General, in his handsome
house, receives As usual: but at these
brilliant military balls the charming girl.
who, in the old days. turned ali heads an,