The Dickinson press., 1893-04-22
CHAPTER I.

oSiiO a NoSliiliSlOIl oSS1SOus sue
would have ranked as the first belle
instead, ii only she'd been Just a little
bit human. Her face was beautiful
as beautiful as Il statues, when one
saw it i'll repose; cold, clear-cut, per-
feet, With regular features and. Il
creamy complexion: Il sculptor's
model in evening dress; n full round
bust, a iaultless figure. But when
Maisie smiled or talked, her charm
was lessened, not increased. as it
ought TO be with animation. She was
beautiful still. to be sure-Stiil per-
feet, still! iaul,less: hut that was all;
nothing in any way better than mere
perfection. She lacked the saving
grace OF feminine touch, winning soft
ness. The other belle beat her there;
the other belle had a heart. Maisie
Bowman had only neck and Shout
ders.
Vet strange to say. though she
reigned acknowledged as vice-queen OF
a season. Maisie Bowman could hard
ly count n single lover. Admirers by
the score tlocked around her ofcourse;
as she entered the ballroom. young
men crowded in, eager to fill up her
card. Western congressman WED with
European attaches in their ardent
desire to fetch her an ice, OIL take her
down to supper. But there the thing
ended. 1t was n dance the men want
ed, not a wife, Maisie noted; it vas Il
partner for a waltz they sought, not
a partner for II lifetime. And this
was annoying, no woman can live on
admiration alone; especially not
Maisie. What she longed for most
were diamonds, Il house, IL position in
the world. Il carriage OF her own, and
incidentally Il husband.
All these-save perhaps the last
she might have in time, no doubt,
from her resources. Her mother
n rich-the widow OF a wealthy IRON
founder in tho Pittsburg district; and
people said Maisie would inherit her
wealth. But then, Mrs. Bowman had
thirty good years OF lie still left i'll
her. A comfortable bark OF ample
tonnage, she sailed easily downthefull
stream OF life before prosperous
breezes. 1t might be long indeed be-
fore shecame to anch l.. That made
the attaches hang back somewhat. Ii
the money mad been Maisie's now,
they might have found the profundity
of their feelings some day too much
for them; but as it was Mrs. Bow
mans, they managed to keep their
sentiments down to the level OF mere
objective artistic admiration for her
face and figure. Besides, Mrs. Bow
man might marry again any day. A
widow OF forty-live, with ter thousand
a year OF her own, may easily excite
u tender passion in the susceptible
breast ola New England congressman.
And when l say ten thousand n year,
mind you, ! mean pounds sterling,
not dollars OF United States currency.
One day a new sensation broke up
ON Washington. Jose Mansfield, the
poet OF the far western world came
to visit the capital.
All society went wild latter its
wont), over thislatest sensation. In
the dialect OF the time and place,
there a a Mansfield boom that
year in Washington. The world
talked of nothing but the prairie
poet-his picturesque mien, his flow
ing brown locks, his fiery southern
eyes, his volcanic energy. For hot
Mexican blood. it was rumored, ran
in Jose Manstield's veins; his mother
had been a famous Spanish beauty at
Santa he; his father, apioneer rancher
on the edge OF the Slerras. He was
Buffalo Bill with Just q flavor oil
Byronese poetry thrown in; the Wild
West subdued and purified for draw.
ing-room use.
Maisie Bowman, like all the rest
was eager to meet and conquer
the hero OF the hour. A cog.
uette at heart, what she wanted
most Of all in the world was conquest
Admiration, not love, was the stake
she played for. And it was with 9
thrill Unconscious pleasure tina sh.
received one day an invitation from
Mrs. Van Rensselaer, Brown to al
evening reception Ito meet Mr.. Jos
/. Mansfield"
. AS the new lion entered the spacious
saloon, Maisie's eyes rested long ant
eagerly on him. A thrill ran through
her; she had met her Fate. TIL
|. prairie poet was tall and handsome
a large-built breezy man, not who'll,
out OF place in an evening suit, We
|, looking as though q sombrero and
} cowboys jacket would have done flu,
Ter justice to his big limbs and hand
some devil-may-care features. Ever
= face in the room was turned towar
the new conner. But as for him, h
\ 7 sauntered up to his hostess, with tn
= long slow swing OF n man accustome
to the endless ~elbow-room OF tn
praries; and even as he shook hand
: with her, his..eyes hadlightedfull with
strange flash on Ma;sie. "Introduc
d me to that GIRL" lie said briefly, wit
the imperious c%urtness he affected q
part Of the poetical manner. "She'
as handsome Us she can hold. An
looks intelligent, too. Every gift {
nature-except perhaps a soul. Blu
after all, if it comes to that, a body
a great deal. I can put up withou
souls. I must know her and SCUM,
her"
"She's the second belle OF our sea
son." Mrs. Van Rensselaer, Brown in
terjected, smiling.
And Jose Mansfield made answer
with a wide wave OF his big, brown
hand, "Washington must be rich, in
deed, if it holds tonight another bell'
who can give her one point and beat
her."
Mrs. Van Rensselaer, Brown, not i'll
pleased, took him across and intro
duced him. The poet, paving his lons
| barbaric brown moustache for q mo
ment, like some western Alaric, scan
: ned her over from head to foot MS II,
might have scanned u trotting horse
1t and approved OF her mentally. The
d he turned to his hostess with gray
II pohteness. "Not the second belle,"h
y SAID In q very distinct voice. eth
y first. The only one.
e 1t was audacious. 1t was crue
l He ought not to have betrayed Mr.
49,. Van Rensselaer, Browns confidenc
But it took Maisie by storm. New
before in her life had. any man in t
world so openly admired her. +.
the first time, Maisie Bowman blus