The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1892-04-21
THE SENTIMENT DAGGER.
N the boudoir OF a
charming woman OF
the world, this tale
was told to me. II
you do not belieYe
it, l shan't blame
you. Even now, |
can hardly believe
it myself.

1he DOudOlr was q strange one 1Or
awoman. With Nina Grandville the
unusual was always to be found. She
was like, and unlike, other women.
On the surface, grande dame de par le
mode. Beneath that polished surface,
which afforded no hold to the cynic
claws of her own sex, who shall say
what swift dilation OF the nostril,
what smouldering fire OF the eye, what
scorn in her walk amid the Grass,
material crowd might not confound
the observer? Distinguished by a
quiet elegance, the surface woman
was accepted by all save the philoso-
pher and the fool. / have always
been q little OF both. AS looked at
the tiger skins, the panoplies OF weap-
ons, the savagely grotesquo bronzes
OF her boudoir, refusing to blend with
crown Derby and plush poufs a la
mode, | wondered, for the thousandth
time, more or less, over that hidden
nature to which this admixture must
be the key. The late Grandville, re-
markable only for fadeur and a keen
taste in sauces, was never responsible
for it, was sure.
Waiting there for the lady, my eye
wandered down a sunbeam, it's CULVER
ing point touching an object hitherto
unnoticed by me. 1t was a small
dagger, sheathed in bronze, with a
figure of NIephistopheles holding up q
wine cup while he Knocked and sang,
upon the handle. The impish deviltry
OF the little figure attracted me- It
hung upon velvet disk just above
Madame's lounge, and when I I'M
sheathed the blade it was slim, oval
shaped bar OF steel, sharp on both
edges, with q wasps sting point. A
lovely bit of steel with only one defect
where a dark stain married the blue
polish OF the blade. Mrs. Grandvil]e
appearing at the moment, ] held the
dagger out to her, remarking: "What
a pity to let such a weapon rust. Do
let me have it cleaned"
She stood in the doorway, grasping
the curtain, her 1.-the undulation ar
rested by my words. She turned from
red to white-a fiery, luminous white
ness-and from that to ashy grey.
Her throat quivered, but no words
came. Her nostrils dilated, she went
white again, her grand figure expand
ed, lowered; by some subtle alchemy
OF nature the woman seemed to turn
tigress before my eyes; in bound she
was at my side, clasping my wrist,
and our eyes burned, each into the
others. As spectator of some great
natural upheaval, it did not occur to
me to say anything. I held my breath
and the dagger while we sounded one
another q long moment. In her gaze
saw only a fierce question. What
she saw in mine must have satisfied
her, for she relinquished my wrist and
seated herself with q shrug and a.
laugh.
Certainly, Lord Hatfield; take it
to every gunsmith when you return
to town and ask him to remove the
stain. You will find that most of
them know it. If they succeed I will
pay them any price they may ask.
And to you [ will give one of the
rarest things on earth, a woman's
loyal and profound friendship" -
While she spoke had been looking
at the stain on the blade. 1t some-
how affected my brain with kind of
heat and tumult. [ attributed this
effect to the blade because of some
emanation proceeding from it. like a
hot and Earring mist, which blurred
the mockery of Mephistopheles. Al
together, was wrought up beyond
my usual mood. So 1 looked full at
her, saying:
"Suppose wanted even more than
that? Suppose wanted what is less
rare, but closer, more human,-a
woman's love?"
l don't think 1 had known that I
loved her until then, but I took a.
quick advantage and threw all nv
newly-found heart into my voice. Her
eyes shone, then contracted; one saw
shewas happy, then sad.
Sin that case II should tell you
the tale of the dagger" she re-
piled.
'"Tell it to me, then"
"It is not easy, Hatfield"
"Say it is impossible, but tell it.
Strong tasks are set to the strong.
You are very strong"
A pink flush suffused her pallor at
my praise. have seen rosy sunrise
clouds fit over the Jura snow peaks
SO. But in her eyes was piteous
dread.
'"Tell me-" entreated again.
"That you may laugh?''
s'That [ may learn" .....
"Learn? What?"
"What a woman's soul is, when it
is real"
She studied me briefly; then she
plunged into this tale:
81 will tell you. When I have done,
you shall pronounce the verdict,
Guilty or Not guilty. A horrid
weight will be lifted from me. NV
mind will not revolve about it any
more, like trapped rat in a wheel.
10 know how sane mind judges my
moral STATUS this is the relief YOU
offer me. 1t is real and terrible
thing am about to tell you, but the
majority Of parsons would call it a.
phantasm of the mind. Only thevery
sane can admit the reality OF subject
i've phenomena. Few know that the
unseen is more real than the seen.