The Sunday herald and weekly national intelligencer., 1890-12-21

~
stage performance was deal more innocent
than the surroundings. To be sure, some of the
actresses appeared in tights and all of them wore
abbreviated skirts, but SO, as he knew, did act
resses occasionally in theatres and opera-houses
of the highest respectability. Stamp out the bar
and wine-rooms and there would be nothing so
very debasing about the resort, he decided. And
after that he made no more mental memoranda.
For upon the stage came one who instantly
caught and held his serious, shortsighted eyes
as none had done before. He leaned forward
breathlessly, his heart beating like trip-ham-
mer, scarlet line in either cheek. The volup-
tuous form so freely displayed, did not affect
him in the least, but the face-the face he
could see nothing else. 1t thrilled him with q
nameless ecstasy, the arch glance from the
sparkling eyes, the pouting red lips, the curves
of chin and cheek, guiltless of paint, it was to
him no gaudy dancer, but living picture sud
denly advancing from out of a hidden nook ofa
half-forgotten time. Who-who was she? OF
whom did she so vividly remind him? He caught
up his fimsy programme. ''Belle la Refine, the
famous queen of the variety stagen 1t was
lie. She was not a creature of that sort. Did
she look at him then? Did she know him,
though he could not recognize her? His hands
grew moist as he twisted the programme around
them nervously. She sang to him alone, of that
he was positive, and if he could have seen him
self as she saw him, his cear-cut, intellectual
face standing out in sharp contrast to the heavy
features around him, he might not have Won
dered that she looked at him she did. Her
dancing, though graceful, annoyed him: her
songs he did not hear, except one that told of
by-gone love that stirred him strangely She
seemed to talk to him with her eyes, and held
him spellbound. But it could not last forever.
She vanished the way she had come, and with
| choking gasp he realized that she gone.
| For him the lights were out, the performance
ended. He sat dazed for few minutes and
then. grasping his hat, was about to leave his
seat, having seen much more than he came to see,
when boy touched his elbow and handed him
a slip OF paper. Seeming intuitively to know
nt he 1lp Iul tba npta nd dat
glance:
IAN old friend would like to see you. Fol-
low the boy"
| He was comparatively stranger in the city,
probably nobody in the hall knew him. But he
did not stop to reason. Certainly he could not
| be blamed for following the boy to see an old
friend. He had no thought of turning back
| even when his small guide led him into the low
| gallery, by way of the side door near the stage.
| Before he fully realized where he was he stood
! in one of the calmly-lit wine-rooms, alone with
! the queen of the variety stage. She sat with
! her back to the audience-room below, between
which and her snowy shoulders dingy
red curtain. Still arrayed in her scanty dancing
attire her dainty, silvery shoes elevated to the
edge of round table upon which were bottles
and glasses, she coolly surveyed him.,
'You wished to see me ?'' he said, unhesi-
| tatingly, advancing q step.
"Certainly," she replied, taking her feet off
the table and rising; ''but l don't want to see
you as white as ghost. WHAT'S the matter !?
| Do | scare you ?'
at is the foul air below. l am not used to it
and have had a few dizzy spells lately" he
murmured, unsteadily, leaning on the table as,
| for an instant, even she seemed blurred and
| far-away looking.
She came to him at once, took his hat from
his nerveless hand, and ran her cool fingers
soothingly over his aching forehead.
"Here, down with this and you'll feel BETTER"
she said, pouring out some liquor from one of
the bottles. He rccoiled with a shudder, put
the glass from his lips, and stepped back.
''You mistake" he said, gravely; ~ am not
a frequenter of this place. am a clergyman"
GAS If / didn't know you," she laughed,
! gayly; "and to think you didn't know me |!
DON'T you really recognize me? Come, look,
not around, but at me, once, good and hard,
and see if am not an old friend.'
She poised airily before him, and then, as he
still seemed puzzled, she said, softly:
'Ned ~
ga flame of red shot across the Rev. Edward
Ashton's pallid face.
''Ohve Olive Favour! My God, is it V0u?'
he whispered, and sank into chair by the table,
staring at her dumbly, she still smiling. The
minister was a young man, but his heart had
once been wrung by this same fair woman. No,
not the same. That was years ago, and she was
then not AS she must be now. Equally en-
thralling she had been to him then, though;
and most terribly had she disappointed both
him and all her friends. She it was who had
turned his life-course In the bitterness Of his
sorrow ever her mad conduct he had set his face
night till then
She saw that he was profoundly moved but
she did not know how iercely he was trying to
crush back the feeling which burned in his eyes
as he looked at her.
Perchng on the table, she caught hold of his
hand and began to talk to him of old times But
he did not listen to her. He was conscious of
the squealing Of the orchestra-volins, the
stamping of heavy feet, and the tomfoolery
upon the stRge. In the adjoining stall he heard
a drunken man trying to sing rbald song
with woman, who was laughing at the maudlin
attempt. Presently, though soft fingers held
his own and fascinating face was close to his,
though satiny shoulders were so near him
presently he would arise and put Satan from
him. But he could not do it instantly. She
was SO frankly joyous, so merrily bewitching,
not repelant line from her laughing eyes to
the tiny shoes whose heels she was knocking
together as she sat before him. With an inward
wrench he shut his eyes, and was about to stand
erect and forbdding, when he was shocked by
q chuckling laugh behind him. Withdrawing
his hand from hers, as if from the touch of fire,
he turned his head with guilty flush. A man,
in 1laXen wig and comedians stage-garb, stood
in the curtained doorway.
81 know that they're guilty, but, oh, they're
so sly ~ laughed the intruder, repeating line
of topical song he had just been singing on
the stage and, bowling low, he disappeared
Mr.. Ashton reached for his hat, the flush
dying out of his face and leaving it very pale.
But she put out her hand restrainingly, quick
glitter of anger melting to tenderness in her
marvelously expressive eyes.
"Its only Jack,n she said, hastily; ''dont
mind him nor his impertnence."
"Jack?" questioned Mr.. Ashton, hoarsely,
wavering again under her glance.
YES" she said, carelessly; "but he never
troubles me- do as l please in all things.