Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-04-28

| was not only reduced tn a very thin
fluid but often dissolved into a sort of
labial spray, and he waltzed a great
deal with her. Besides, there were
scores OF Openstone girls, and indeed
| several Openstone mothers, who were
not adverse to adding their charms to
the elegancies of Joers accomplished
son. But Yeslit continued to keen the
prize well in hand; spinning a soft and
pleasant webb about him with lullinr.
continuous buzz, and ever and anon
shooting little restraining thread
across in front of him when he made a
movement to escape, then releasing
him and capturing him again at pleas
ure. Mrs. Whitney obviously was not
pleased, for there were many richer
girls present, but Yeslit obviously re-
manned in possession of the field, and
Salvo Popp, from his corner, from
under the load of his sloping shoulders
and looking out from his CHASTITY
display of cuffs and collar, thought
his sister marvelously clever.
After the waltz had partly spent it.
self, the old lawyer came to John Earl
ing, at whose side Maun had remained
throughout the evening, and claimed
his daughters company home. The
young man courteously asked that
pleasure for himself, but his old en-
ployer put him off with Jealous,
| good-natured growl, and led her awav.
Then, having felt the physical fascina-
ton of contact with Maun broken into
but once by the singing of Celeste, and
after that little troubled by the
presence of that quiet white figure in
another room, now that the spell had
lapsed little he started to find the
sweet-voiced stranger. Yet he found
that he could not go to her after what
had happened; it would not be just to
Maun. If he clasped any other hand
than Celeste's it mattered little, but to
her he felt there would be something
of sacrilege and to Maun something
OF untruth. For there was
something "a ray of feeling,
understanding, sympathy, or knowl-
edge, between him and Celeste
Bright, though they had never looked
into each others eyes but once. that
had never gone out Perhaps it was
entirely in his own heart, though, and
not reaching to hers; a memory only of
her voice now suddenly renewed. He
went out upon the veranda debating if
he should not go to his lodging, but he
could not be discourteous to his friends,
Judge and Mrs. Bower, nor to Ce-
leste, and he started in and met Mrs
Bower and others were busy at a game
of whist in the large front room over
the parlor, and Celeste. looking little
white and tired, was lying back in an
easy chair watching them, when Mrs.
Bower led John Earling to her. Gee
leste, this is Mr.. Earling; Mr.. EARRING,
you remember our little Celeste?" she
said.
The girl got up, supporting herself
slightly by the chair, and her face lit
up with smile and her big, clear eyes
looked warm and luminous as she took
his hand. You did not come back to
talk again as told you to-" were her
first laughing, melodious words. John
Earnings cheeks colored. But have
the tea-roses yet!' he said, and Mrs.
Bower broke out laughing at so queer
a resumption of long-broken and
scarcely begun acquaintance. Celeste's
cheeks, too, turned pink with his re-
mark, and they all sat down and fell
to talking of general things, but the
clear eyes OF the young people, meet
ing, would linger a little and slip
down consciously. Mrs. Bower in a
short time. however, asked her hus-
band to get the carriage to the door as
it was growing late, and turning to
John Earring she invited him to come
and take tea with them soon, and tax
ing Celeste's arm they bowed good
night and went away to get their
wrappings.
AS they went out John Earring
watched the limping, slender girl with
sinking throb at his heart. A kind
of sympathetic shame mantled his
face. as he thought of the free and will
Lowry sweep of Maun's carriage. and |
the pleasure he had taken in it. Nay,
was it not the one exquisite grace that |
had led him TO her? In a moment,
with vision of this lame and lovely |
girl, the narrow compass of his pas
sion flashed before him. He cot up
and went away toward his lodgings, |
forgetful that he should have thanked |
and taken leave of those whose hospi- |
tality he had enjoyed. But his heart |
was troubled; he could not straighten |
the sweet and tangled currents of his |
feelings. He felt dimly that Maun did |
not satisfy him; that beneath the |
physical exhilaration which her pres
ence brought him there burned a soft
hunger which she could not fill. He |
thought of Celeste, and tried to test |
his feelings by her. but he could not |
feel her much with the memory of this
other throbbing, clnging, regal girl
fresh upon him. He went to sleep at
last, and wandered about in his dreams;
at one time pursuing the voice of Ce-
leste through an endless green land
scape, now hearing it and now losing
it, when suddenly he came upon the
body of Maun lying dead upon a bed
of flowers, and when he bent over it
in an agony of grief the invisible voice of
Celeste flew down out of the air like
something tangible and stunK him, and
he awoke,
CHAPTER XVIII