Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1892-06-08
A DILEMMA.

Mr. Bertram Lamar sat on the arm of
chair in the hall of the hotel at Scar
borough and idly swung his foot. Mr..
Lamar was bored. An extended ac-
quaintance with this young man forces
me to confess that he was not often af-
ficted in that way. We know that no
man can aspire to be of the highest
fashion without constantly experiencing
the pangs of this distinguished ailment,
and yet Me-. Lamar was unquestionably
of the highest fashion. The most cursory
glance would tell you this. Any one
could see that he belonged to the best
people, that he was used to the best
people, that only the best people would
be bearable to him. But now he was
genuinely bored.
Ladies passed-old ones, who swept
up the dust with trains, and who creaked
as they moved, as if they wanted oiling;
young ones in light frocks and wide,
fowered hats cast shadow over the
clearest eyes. They kept banging open
the glass doors and going out into the
blaze of sun beyond, with a bursting
into bloom of lace parasols, or coming
into the cool of the hall, with the rus.
ting, silken sheathing of the parasols
suddenly furled and the tapping of little
heels on the hard floor. He never
glanced at them. But they did at him
swiftly, obliquely-from under their
hat brim, out of the shadow. He looked
away, with raised chin and indolently
dropped eyeliils.
There was one girl-she kept going to
and fro-and as he looked on the ground
he could see the hem of her dress and
her feet. They were pretty feet in yel-
low shoes, small and pointed. Mr..
Lamar found himself Illuminating. ''Sup-
pose the head is as pretty as the feet.
But it never is. There's law of COM
pensating which prevents that. The
head which belongs to those feet is
thirty-fve." And he looked up. The
head matched the feet to perfection.
Mr.. Lamar felt that he didn't look bored
any longer. Rather, however, than
sacrifice this dearly bought and enviable
condition of being, he turned his back
on that enchanting head, and sauntered
into an adjoining room. There would
be no one to look at there.
The room was empty, cool and dim. 1t
had oak chairs and tables and writing
desks, sea green walls and great win
dow opening on the balcony. Outside
there were ladies of uninteresting ages
sitting under forest of parasols. Be-
yond were velvety sweeps of close crop
ped turf, dappled with short shadows
shrinking to the tree roots. Splinters of
dusty sunlight crept down the boles of
the stately elms and trembled on the
white dresses of passing girls. Mr.. La
mar felt that he might gaze upon this
prospect for on infnitude of time and re-
main bored.
But fate willed otherwise. As he en-
tered the room he saw something on the
floor near the table. He picked it up. 1t
was band about an inch and half
wide, covered with puckered yellow rib
bon, and with one end run through a
clasp of dull silver showing monogram
in small diamonds. There was bunch
of narrower yellow ribbon besides the
clasp, each end finished with little
tongueless silver bell. It appeared to
Lamar from some hanging flaments of
thread that the two ends had once been
stitched together. He looked curiously
at his find.
"What can it be?" he unused, staring
at it.
We have said that he was young, and
came of the best people, and with the
best people there is always doubt as to
whether they wear such vulgar things as
stockings or possess such unmentionable
things as legs. "Wings, not legs and
feet, shall move them," as the poet grace
fully expresses it.
Lamar first thought he would take it
to the Office, but curiosity compelled him
to study it. 1t might be worn round the
neck; but no, it was not long enough.
He drew the severed ends together and
held it off from him, eyeing it obviously
and refectively pulling his small NOUS
tache. Oh, yes, of course. Now he
saw. How dense he'd beenl A bracelet.
Holding it together he pushed his hands
through it and it swung OH his wrist.
81 don't think ever saw bracelet
just like that before" he thought, mov-
ing it around and looking at it with his
head on one side.
And then, as he looked at it, came
sudden fash of wakening light, and for
q moment he stood staring at it IN
stupefed horror as it hung over his
wrist. With the return of conscious
ness he crumpled it up and crushed it
into his pocket. What should he do
with it? If he took it to the Office the
owner would never dare to claim it. If
he found out who she was he would
never dare to offer it.
He could imagine the scene. A lovely
and youthful lady is discovered walking
in the corridors. To her appears Mr..
Bertram Lamar in full evening dress,
with a white pink in his buttonhole.
Then, drawing a package from his
pocket, Mr.. Lamar presents it to her,
murmuring, "Yours, I believe" and
vanishes through trap door.
The Lamars were famous for their
chivalrous attitude toward the sex.
What should he do to spare her feelings
and his own? And he turned the cause
of his perturbation over in his pocket.
Just then he heard a step outside-a
feminine step. With a guilty start he
retreated from the table, fell into a
chair and seized the morning paper, in
which he buried his head. Any one
noting this fact would of course imagine
that he slumbered, and feel themselves
safe from espial.
SIT is she," thought Bertram, seized
with guilty tremors. "She has come to
hunt for it," and he remained motion
less.
So did she. There was not the slight
est vibrating rustic from her silent