The World. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1891-1896, 1892-07-29
CHAPTER II.

| It was sharp, crisp night. The moon
shone down upon snow-cad land and its
| silvery beams sciDtiiiated In dazzling
| Bplendor from the Recovered branches Of
| the ancient trees that lined the streets Of
| that fair New England town. The college
! was astir with life. In front Of Gymnasium
Hall baruuche-sleighs came and went,
| depositing their loads OF fur-wrapped
maidens and appreciated youths. The last
| college cotiUon OF the season was TO be
danced and across the white expanse OF
campus echoed the music Of q waltz that
thrilled the soul Of the reading man as
| he pored over his books In his lonely room
and envied the happier fate Of his more
\ prosperous classmates. For he who dances
must pay the fiddler and II your purse Is
| not fat you must stick to your books. After
| all, you are here to study, not TO dirt, and
/ with this thought In your mind, oh,
/ scholar, return To your classic tones. Per-
| haps In the years to come you will pluck
| from the tree OF life fruit more precious
! than the ephemeral fayors Of the german.
But on with the dancei The scene be-
| fore Us is one that stirs the blood Of him
who finds In the beauty Of woman and tho
strength and grace Of well-groomed men
| the fairest products Of this strange world.
Behold a large and lofty hall bedecked
| with flowers and gay with the smiles OF
youth. Our pulses throb with the rythm
Of the waltz; white arms and swan-like
necks, bright eyes and ruby lips whir' by
US In dream Of love and joy Arc you
| reading Of Chloe and other ancient bellies
| in your distant room. poor boyl Come
| forth into the wtntry night and peep
| through the windows Of the Hall. Did
Alcibiades or Horace, TheocIitus or Virgil
! gaze in the olden days upon lovelier forms
or fairer faces than now enchaut the senses
Of your colieagCes2 Let the Venus Of
Milo reign II she will In the realm Of art;
as for US, one hour Of flesh and blood Is
| worth ka1pa OF mar1norean Joys Back
to your books then, you who< lead your
class. Thrill, If you can. with the scuip-
tured stones Of ancient verse Leave US TO
| seize ffom the merry present the pleas
ures that pertain to the fever Of life and
| the bHoyancy Of youth.
! Harlan Otis had come late to the dance.
I IT he looked fascinating when robed In q
scarlet smokfr1sz'acliet he was Irresistible
in evening dress He's symphony in
black and white' Boston girl had re-
marked as he entered the ballroom. Per-
haps but he's out Of tune returned her
partner, who had noted the scowl on the
picturesque Juniors brow
The fact was that Otis was annoyed by
several things. In the first place, the
scene before him was not In harmony with
his present state of mind. lie had Just
come from drawing-ns5n considered
dangerous ground by the stately matrons
who sat IN solemn grandeur at the upper
end OF the ballroom, dispensing favOrs and
indlGging III more or less ili-Tlatlrcd sos-
stu The picture Of q dark-aairc1, blue
ey,st wUInan,- with the loHp-light on her
=,
clasp of her hand still thrilled him. The
odor Of vsolets, always worn at her waist,
lingered With him yet He could hear her
velvet voice as she urged lin tO give to
the woruan who loved tir4 hpstthe evening
hours He had torn himself away from all
this-for what -. .....
In the coat room he hid met with most
unpleasant episode. .@. A..
She lo0i.s like a dream Tonight, Hail."
remarked a clasS-matc, referring, as the
assembled students well knew, to Alice In
man.
=" But she's reality to-John Arnold" re-
Piled "a malicious voice. ....
Alice Inman was to dance the cotitlon
with his chum and Harlan Otis deeply felt
the sarcasm the last speaker had thrown
out. He answered not, but hurried onward
toward the dancinS-room. Men of his
do warm friends and he knew that many.
Of his colleagues would be glad to see him
disgraced- The rivalry between John Ar
mold and himself for the smiles Of Alice In
man had become 50 apparent to all on-look-
ers that the slightest advantage gained by
either aIitor formed topic for converse
ton in a community rather narrow in its
| lines.
For that nights german Harlan Otis had
no partner, and, after paying his devoirs
to the matrons, he took his place among
the stays" She is, indeed a dream" he
said to himself as his eyes rested upon
| Alice Inman. Instantly the Vision Of a
dark haired woman dressed in black. with
violets at her waist, vanished from his
mind. He saw only II gentle, girlish face,
crowned by a wealth Of auburn hair; .
well-rounded, supple figure, attired In
cltngfng white He felt a pang OF jealousy
as the orchestra resumed the waltz and
John Arnold, leader for the night, whlrled
away In rhythmic grace with the girl he
loved In vain. Suddenly the athlete stays
his steps, cIaps his hands and at the favor
. table the eight dancers meet, Straight
, toward Harlan Otis walks Alice Inman.
4 Handing him some trifling toy, she says.
as they Join In the waltz
i You we're rather late--but you have my
r first favor" ..
; Thank you" he answers, Il Will keep
I it for all time W..
t Always talking nonsense. wish you
I would once be honest Just for change
d Thus she whispers and her breath is on
Il his cheek. He holds her little closer to
y him. bat, bark, the fatal signal comes and
4 he has left her at her seat
!. Perhaps John Arnold noticed the flush
d upon her cheeks as he rejoined his partner
Is AT all events his homely face was palel
> than its won't and for aAmoment he forgot
q his duties as director Of the dance.
n Mercurial. impressionable. Harlan OH;
8 was torn by conflicting inclinations as b.