Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1893-12-17

"You knew that torrance was done
with the stage?"
A stain crept up her pale young
cheek.
eyes, I knew"
"Ain't he a lucky dog, though?" and
Sammy spread his grimy hands out.
Wasn't it enough fer TO be given a
voice like his 'thout falling heir TO a lot
of money and a castle throwed in in
England? Therell be lots O. people
who'll miss Torrance in America, l tell
We. He amt like the folks in Ko-ko'S
song, what nobody wants around. He's
a gentleman-that's what! He's got the
incest way Of speakin' TO a man l ever
hear. 1 don't wonder the girls kept
writin' to him. Why, mash letters
well, his man jest sweeps them out! He
don't pay no attention TO them. He's
too sensible. And"-here the eulogy
ended with this eloquent statement
she gave me S. tonight fer Christmas.
Nance felt an angry disgust with her
self. She tried to silence the minor
notes surglng in her soul. Why should
she have this awful, despairing feeling
of conclusion? Her life was not ended
because Mark Torrance was about to dis
appear from il. This opera, with its
exotic, oriental charm, was not the end
of everything. She had always been so
| defantly proud, had kept herself so
spotless among temptations in the moral
murkiness ~enveloping her, had breathed
a pure ether that might have been eX-
! hailed from her own soul, and to think
that she had given her love, deeper,
more passionate than she had dreamed
she could ever feel, TO a man
who was not OF her world, and
whose life hereafter would be as far re-
moved from hers as If they lived upon
different planets. What possible ATTN
ity could there be between Mark
Torrance, English gentleman and famous
singer, and Nance Patterson, No. Is Ia
the chorus?
As she sauntered on her eyes lowered.
She was not aware until quite close
that somebody stood outside the stars
dressing room. II was as If her thoughts
had summoned him, for Nankl Poo, now
in a shaggy gray overcOat, was drawing
on his gloves and smiling at her.
GOOD morning, for it's after 10" and
he flung away his cigar, "a merry
Christmas to you, Nance"
There was q long, interested scrutiny
In his eyes. 1t almost seemed that he
| could command the secret Of her love
| from her, for he seemed looking into
her heart. In reality he was only won
dering again, as be had wondered be-
| fore, what it was that had always
singled her singnally from her compan-
ions. Pretty though she was, there
were a half dozen others in line with
| her night after night who as far as pos
tive beauty Of feature went, far out
| shone her. IL was her vital individual
ity that reached out and appealed TO
him. She wa little, far from robust,
vet so independent. so reserved, but
with subtle, swiftly fading flashes Of
| diablerie in her hazel eyes. There was
an alert, intelligent mind under the
silver-goid tangles OF hair. She was
honest. She was loyal. He knew it.
1--WE been waiting for you," be said
as il this unheard OF occurrence were
the most natural thing. You staid
longer tonight than usual"
A tremulous JOY luttered Ia the girls
heart So new that il terrified her. She
tried to QuelI It in vain. he had waited
for her. Why?
In q few moments they we're on the
street. 1t was a white night. Snow
bad fallen all day, had ceased bat an
hour or so previous, and now the sky
was swept clear OF clouds, the moon
hung in the pure blue-a sphere oiradi-
ant pearl.
To Nance the moments held a shad-
owy ecstasy shot with pain. A sense Of
upreality seized her. 1t was more than
marvellous that she should be walking
BY the side Of the man sue loved in the
bright, e~nw-apping calm.
Her steps grew lighter, her touch in