The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1893-09-24
TIE KISS OF GOLD.
BY KATE JORDAN.
LCopyright 1898 by j. Is. Lpp ncott Company
aud published by special arrangement with
theml
[Cuntinued from last Wednesday,
CHAPTER VIII.


stained pile because it was old-so little
was old in New York. He loved the
gloomy halls and the high, dusty Win
dows. His rooms were q medley where
discord in the extreme blended into
startling harmony. Curiosity shops had
been ransacked for treasures, and he had
even paid flying visits to ship chambers
shops upon the wharves in the desire to
collect antagonistic bits. Fish nets that
had the salt of the sea woven into their
fibers took the place Of moro conven-
tional hangings. Mugs of every size and
the most fanciful shapes, some of them
very old, hung in a line around the man.
tel, each a mirror for the cracking fire
below. Divans swathed in Turkish stuffs
jutted from shadowy angles and held
palpitating CLEANS from hanging lamps
in their oriental, bespangled folds. His
bed had curtains of pale tapestry fra
grant as spice and Topped up by spears.
1t was screened by a leathery Indian mat
resembling the back of a huge turtle and
suspended by hooks from the ceiling
Delatole had many sides to his charac-
ter. He was rake, parasite, but he
was also genuine artist and loved his
work. He loved the somber dreams
which stole in upon his solitude in this
old house, i'll this old street. They tipped
his pen with cabalistic power. When
the wind howled and the snow fell, the
drafty passages seemed trodden by
ghostly feet, and fancy often crossed his
threshold, CARRIED in some futtering rag
of the dead years. Sometimes he had
but to half shut his eyes, and looking
across his untidy desk to the limits of
the spacious square beyond see the roof
tops stretch away into Il sun kissed des-
ert, and the hanging smoke become the
white tents of Il waiting army.
Yes, he loved the place, but it must
go and his life there be remembered as
dream. On this November afternoon
while he waited for Tom he held in his
hand, which was trembling with rage. q
notice to leave these self same apart
ments or pay very large sum in a very
short time. Curious that man should
prefer as tenant some commonplace
fellow With money instead of brilliant
critic who made cigarette lighters of
his dunning letters! a few oaths that
reduced creation to chaos, and IL few
puffs of IL cigarette cleared his brain. He
sat back to think.
So much money had gone at the gam
bling table; so much on the races; SO
much in speculation. And the result?
Enormous bills flowing III from every
quarter, chief among them all appalling
array of figures for more than a years
rent.
There's not n hole OF corner where
can borrow n third of it," he exclaimed
impatiently, and Tightening the girdle of
the eastern robe Unfolding his slight figure
he strolled to the window, and through
the tangle of bare branches looked across
at the snowy grass plots of Washington
square.
He scarcely moved for many minutes.
Was there nothing he could do? Nothing?
One plan after another was dismissed as
impracticable until his eyes fell upon
Tom coming across the park, the orange
light streaming from the west behind
him, making a moving silhouette of his
vigorous figure.
Delatole's eyes became inscrutable, the
smoke wreaths curled furiously around
his head, and he caressed his lip with the
point Of his tongue, as if he had literally
tasted palatable thought.
You fool! Why didn't you think of
him beforer he said aloud and burst out
laughing.
When the sedate English valet, who
had almost forgotten the look of Ameri-
can money, opened the door for Tom,
his host strolled from the window with
hands ,outstretched.
"Only half an hour Late. ne said air.
lily in his drawling voice. Not bad for
a new celebrity. Did you see The Chal.
lenge this morning? Good-wasn't it2
Here, read this
He picked up some loosely scattered
pages covered with his delicate, cramped
writing and pushed them into Toms
hands.
''This will be in on Thursday morn
ing. You see, it's minute review of
the play. You certainly can't complain"
Tom carried them to the window and
turned one rustling page after another.
Glorious words We're electromagnetic,
intense. And how true!--how marvel
ously true! His own intimate struggles
in writing the play had been OWNED by
the keen critical understanding of the
writer The lines flowed delicately, sub
thy, and were sweet as incense. They
throbbed in his brain; his eyes lightened.
had not hoped for this" he said,
with grateful glance as he came back
to the table while slowly drawing off his
gloves. GLOW awfully kind of you! My
conviction that you mean it all is far
dearer than that New York will read
these words
eyes, mean it ALL"
Delatole handed him cigarette, gave
an abrupt glance at his harassed. weary