The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1892-10-05

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wish to know simply ii dream of love?
Very we'll, only dream of that; and what
is vet more, if have or have not lovers,
or if never shall have lover, it will not
arise from virtue. I belie-e in nothing,
but self-esteem and contempt of others.
These little intrigues, these petty pas
sions, which see in the world, make me
indignant to the bottom of my soul. 1t
seems to me that women. who give them
selves for so little, must be base Great.
ures. As for myself, to commit sacri-
lege would wish, like the vestals OF
Rome q love as great as my crime, and aa
terrible as death
Il wept Just now during the fourth act.
1t was not because I listened to the mar.
velous music; it was because admire
and envy passionately lie superb and
profound love represented. And it ID
ever thus-when I read of such things I
am in ecstasies.
How we'll the people of the sixteenth
century knew how to love and how to die!
One night of love-then death. That 81
delightful.
Now, my friend, You must leave me
We are observed. They will believe Nte
love each other, and as we have not that
pleasure, it is useless to incur the penal
ties. Goodnight.
Il thank you very much" replied Eu-
gene. tax ng the hand she extended him
coldly. and left the box. He met his
uncle in the passage.
"Ah! my dear fellow, said Mr.. Ellis
ton. seizing him by the arm. L must
tell you an idea that has been in my mind
ell the evening""
What is it, uncle?'
We'll, there are here this evening
number of charming young girls. This
set me to thinking of You and Your lone.
illness, and I even said to my wife, that
We must marry you in due time to one OF
these young ladies!"
"Oh, uncle!"
We'll, why not?"
1T is such a serious thing. If one
makes mistake in his choice"
"Pshaw! it is not 80 difficult to avoid
that. Take ife like mine, who has a
great deal of eligion, not much imagina-
ton, and no fancies. This is the whole
secret. tell you this in confidence, my
dear fellow"
Well, then, uncle, at the proper time
will think Of it..
do think of it., said the other. in
serious tone; and went to join his Young
wife whom be understood so wsll.
Eugene left the opera in peculiarly
disturbed state. His mind still dwelt
upon his fair connection. He felt, how
ever, more sure of himself, since he had
bound himself by the strictest obliga-
tions of honor.
He abandoned himself from this mo-
ment with less scruple to the emotions
and to the danger against which he be-
lieved himself invincibly protected.
He did not fear oftener to seek the So
ciety of his beautiful connection, and
even contracted the habit of repairing to
her house almost every day.
Whenever he found her alone. their con-
versation invariably assumed on both
sides tone of irony and raillery, in
which both excelled. He did not forget
her reckless confidence at the opera, and
willingly recalled it to her, asking her il
she had yet discovered that hero of love,
for whom she was seeking.
At last the night Of the ball came.
Cora's parties were Justly renowned for
their mngnifcence and good taste. She
This enlng sne naG very Simple
toilet, as was becoming in the courteous
hostess. She wore long dress OF dark
velvet; her arms were bare, without jew
els; necklace of large pearls on her
rose-tinted bosom, and rich coiffure
was placed on her fair hair.
Eugene caught her eye MS he entered, rs
though she were watching for him. he
had seen her on tho previous evening, and
they had lad q more lively skirmish than
usual.
He was struck by her brilliancy-her
beauty heightened, without doubt, by the
secret artlor of the quarrel, as though IL
lumined BY an interior fame, with all the
clear, soft splendor Of o trausI aren't ala
baster vase.
When he advanced to join her and sa-
lutte her, yielding, against his will, to an
involuntary movement of passionate ad-
miration, he said:
You ae truly beautiful this evening
Enough so to make one commit crime"
She looked fxedly in his eye, and re-
piled:
i should like to see that, and then
left him with superb nonchalance.
Mr.. Elliston approached, and, tapping
ths young man on the shoulder, said:
Eugene, you are TO sl end the evening
with me, YOU know. Let us retire to the
snuogery."
WILLINGLY, SIR" nftraversing two or
three apartm ents they reached the retreat.
It was q small, oval room, very lofty,
tapestried with thick, red silk, covered
with dark flowers. AS the doors we're re-
moved, two heavy cur; aims isolated it
completely from the neighboring hall. 1t
was here that Mr.. Elliston spent the
greater part of the time during his parties
and balls.
After IN hour or SO spent in talFing,
Mr.. Elliston threw himself on the dlvan
and Eugene took up a ook.
Little by little the elder gentleman fell
into doze, his head resting on his chest.
Eugene threw down his book, and, start
ing up, placed his back against the man
telpiece. :,
He listened vaguely to the music of the
orchestra, had fell into a reverie.
Through these harmonies, the murmTrs
o.. Il warm perfume of the ball, he tol-
lowed, in thought. all the evolutions Of
her who was the mistress and queen Of it
all. He saw her supple and proud step;
he heard her grave and musical voice; he
felt her breath.
He was not positively in love; but his
imagination had reused itself all in
famed, before this beautiful, living, and
palpitating statue. She Was really for
him more than a woman-more than q
mortal. The antique fables of amorous
goddesses and intoxicated Bacchantes,
the superhuman voluptuousness unknown
in terrestrial pleasures, were in the reach
of his hand, separated from him only by
the shadow of this sleeping old man. But
this shadow was ever between them-it
was honor.
uio evoc nc IL 1oct in fhonpht were