Idaho news. (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1887-1891, 1890-02-01

II y
\ story, thoughpart of it is well known
to many here and-well, | must talk
it out, for | shall have to tell John
finally, and had rather take good
clubbing than do it.
Don't hesitate on my account, T"
said Huntington. encouraging; II
rather like bit of gossip myself"
II was so upset when | saw that
notice that | can't think now how |
managed to let Torrance get out of
the room without betraying myself.
And you, with your stupid insistenee
about reading the paper-I felt like
throwing you through the window"
Mr.. Huntington langnidly survey
ed his athletic form and smiled for
bearingly. He sank back in his chair
and carefully concealed his curiosity,
| fearing to stem the tide of reminis-
cences that flooded his companions
thoughts.
Mary Hastings was an acknowl-
edged belle from the time she made
her bow to society over four bou-
4 quets Il sent her one ofthem myself, I"
said Barton, with a rather sad
smile. 'She was never a beauty,
but she was very pretty. with bright
brown hair and a clear, pale skin.
She was immensely clever and very
accomplished, but am grateful to
say, she kept all her extra fines for
private consumption, and never
bored us with sonatas when we pre-
\ ferred the 'Mikado' She was always
I the same at all times, and to all peo-
pie. Her great beauty was her won
4 derful gray eyes, and she had way
i of looking out of them that was simp-
( " irresistible. She had a fault of
looking quite often at man that
way, and it seldom took more than a
second glance to bring him to his
/ knees. If ever a girl was scientifeal-
" and ingeniously q coquette, it was
I that oGe.
''The affairs never went beyond a
/ proposal from the victim, and often
er never reached that stage, but it
kept great following, and she liked
/ that. Most girls do.
"A successful belle is always tar
get for slanderous arrows of 9TH
er girls who never fiirt be-
cause opportunity is wanting, and
Mary was severely criticised for her
little penchant. | don't think any
thing beyond mere fun and a girls
natural cruel desire of conquest ever
animated her. She was an only child,
and her parents were consequently
| blind to her faults, if she had any. |
never saw any myself" added Bar
ton, striking light with pronounced
| yigor.
1T was a gay winter when business
| first brought John Torrance to this
city. We were classmates at Yale,
| and he looked me up as soon as he
( arrived. OF course | was pleased to
see him, and little dinner at the
4 club followed, Just to introduce him
/ to the fellows. After the cigars were
4 lighted there was some little gossip
about balls and dinners and girls.
think someone must have given him
points that night, for when, few
days later, ] proposed introducing
him at the home OF my friend, Miss
Hastings, he actually declined. As |
had rather counted on seeing him
succumb to those speaking eyes, |
was surprised and disappointed. He
did not like ffirts he said, bluntly
enough, and his business claimed a
A great deal of his time lie was hold
ing out in the role OF virtuous disap-
proval. The little remarks about
the 'beaux yeux' had created in him
fine disgust. Now, take my word
for it. if u man starts out to dislike
a girl, he is just as good as gone if
she happens to know it, for told
her myself, with a view of putting
her up to something extra.
But she laughed. and said she, too,
was much occupied and could not
waste a short life in vain pursuits.
But believe, notwithstanding, that
she then firmly resolved to have John
Torrance in her train and trail him
through the dust.
Shortly after the cards came out
for the Reynolds grand ball. AS
was my habit, | called at the
Hastings to see them about going,
and asked Mary what flowers !
should send her. She said il she went
she would have white buds and q
white dress. AS rule she did not
affect white, for she well knew that
something heavy and gorgeous be-
came her more.
"But it is very uncertain that /
shall be there. / en- afraid won't
have a good time," she said, with a
wicked laugh.
1t was only by offering to dance
all her unengaged dances with her
that finally persuaded her to go.
AS she never had any unengaged, it
would not have been well to depend
on that for a waltz.
The night Of the ball i waited in
the hall to take her down stairs, and
when she did appear she had carried
out her intentions saw. Instead OF
her usual gorgeous raiment, she
wore a thin white dress, fastened
close at the throat. and soft, white
sash about her waist, with one OF
the roses / had sent her in her hair.
~ am regretting past misconduct"