Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-12-17
"CTRIS." "
BY W. E. NORRIS.
CHAPTER I.


 CHRISTINA COMPTON sat upon the low gar- o,n wall of the villa which her father had taken to Cannes and dangled her legs in the sunshine. Behind her was the gurden, and the villa, which, though modest, commanded anything but @ modest rent. ..m
 It was only half past ten o'clock in the morning, so that Cannes, in the fashionable sense of the word. was hardly awake yet. Fashionable Cannes had been to a ball the night before, and would not show its nose out-of-doors for another hour and half at least; but Chris had many friends who did not belong to the fashionable class, and pres ently one after another of these came tramp ing along the dusty road and stopped to speak to her. The first to arrive was Jose, the Spanish poddler, with that striped rug flung over his shoulder, which Chris always wished that somebody would buy, if only to relieve him of the nuisance of carrying it. Indeed, this was such @ hot morning that when he came to a standstill beside her, and showed his white teeth and raised his hand to his round cap, as usual, she declared that she would buy 1t herself, only she hadn't got any money left.
 Jose said that was of no consequence at all !; the senorita could pay him some day-any day. At the same time, he really could not recommend the rug. Such things were al very well for mere tourists, but for persons who really knew the value of beautiful work, like tho ssnorita, they were scarcely suitable. He la some lace, now, which was truly ex- quisite. And forthwith he placed his oblong box upon the wall and began to display his treasures. But Chris did not want any lace. She had plenty of it, packed away, (which used to belong to my mother" she explained, ''and which suppose I shall begin to wear next year." What she really would like would be one of the enormous clasp-knives, which formed 6 portion of Jose's stock-in-trade.
 
 Knives, said he, were not for young ladies, who would cut their fingers with them. For men they were useful-and he proceeded to point out how @ man might be called upon to make use of them.
 "Very well" answered Chris, drawing her feet on to the top of the wall, clasping her hands roundhe legs and resting her chin upon her knees, "then we won't buy or sellto-day."
 After time Jose shouldered his rug and his box of rubbish, and strolled off on his daily round to the villas of those opulent for- eigners with whom it wa6 alike his business and his pleasure to haggle; but he was soon replaced by other wayfarers. The company of Italian minstrels and singers; the beRgars who managed to pick up livelihood by Soli- citing aims; the man who sold hot chestnuts; !; these and many others passed the spot, and halted to wish her good-day and answer the quick questions that she put to them about themselves and their belongings. She knew each of them by name she had few sous for beggars and . kindly word for everybody.
 Whether Chris Compton was pretty girl or not was a mooted point among women, most of whom, to tell the truth, were inclined to de- eide that she was not. Her features, to be sure were not regular; her nose was too short, her eyes, though bright, were not particularly large; when you had said that sho had a neat figure, @ good complexion, and that her dark hair, with bronze lights in it here and there, was vel enough in its way, you had said about all that there was to b. said for her. No mas culIne mind had ever doubted tho obvious fact of her beauty though the masculine intel lect might not be equal to the task of defining in what 1t consisted.
 But ct length e pedestrian hove in sight whom her naughty terrier deemed worthy of cordial demonstrations of regard. He cooked his little brown ears, he wagged his stump of a tail excitedly; finally he leaped down from the wall and seurried along the road to greet the newcomer. He was dog of immense discrimination, but tho most dis eliminating of dogs and men make mistakes sometimes, and keen observer might have fancisd that Peter was making little mistake in this instance. Because, somehow or other, the very handsome young man upon whose trousers he was leaving the imprintS of his dusty paws did not look quite likO gentle mon. It was not that the young man was badly dresscd-he was. if anything, rather too well dressed it was not that there was anything particular in his gait or bearing that could be said to denote vulgarity; but there was a sub dued suggestion of swagger about him, an air of assurance which only those assume who are not sure of themselves; and when he opened his lips there was no longer any doubt about the matter, for his voice was not gen. tleman's voice. MT. Valentine was admitted into the society of gentlemen, and was to most intents and purposes one of them. He was tall, dark, well put ,gether, and using his limbs with the easy acc of an athlete. His age might bo two-ant twenty or thereabouts. Suoh natural advant ;es can not but help a man on tho road to popularity; and as for Peter, he was in a manner bound to do hom- Sge to Mir. Richardson. Some acknowledg- ment, surely, is due to the benefactor who has bought you out f thralldom of . dog dealer's restricted promises and presented you to the kindest mistress in tho world.
 "Well Chris," said MT. Richardson, "uI @rly, as usual, see."