Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1893-01-12

questioning or provOcant I would avert
mine and hurry on. not always fast
enough, however. to avoid hearing be
hind me a hooking voice say half an-
grily, half scornfully, 'Sont-ilS done
beteS, ces Anglais?"
One night after the New Year heard
some men at a cafe talking of the Bal
de Opera I wondered how sensible.
honest, moral men could show them
selves in such a place. Then 1 specu-
lated on what that place was really
like, and later on, to my own incredu-
lous astOnishment, found myself in my
dress clothes walking, dazed and i'll
expressibly shocked, in the corridor of
the first tier of boxes. gazing stupidity
on the scene below every time l came
to one Of the openings affOrding ingress
or egreSS to the seats in front. | believe
[ was meditating on the way of escape.
| leaning against the side of one of the
boxes, when | became aware of fe-
male figure who had stopped beside me.
She wore a sky blue satin domino, ele-
gantly trimmed with white lace, a loup
of the same color and material, with Il
ersdeep fall of blond, concealed her
features, and she slowly waved a fan
Of blue feathers. A strong perfume
of heliotrope seemed to emanate from
her person or her dress as she drew
! closer to me. Presently she placed a
small, pump hand on my arm, and said
in a high-pitched. artificial but very
silvery voice:
| Il know thee!'
How could she know me?
| Yet she evidently did, or else she
would not hane singled me out of the
crowd and plainly told me so. [ tried
to solve the mystery by ransacking my
memory, but in vain. As if to reproach
me with my silence, the voice repeated,
! i'll exactly the same tone. II know
| theer
| Curiosity got the better OF my shame
facednesS OF perhaps the fact that the
unknown was closely masked gave me
unusual courage, for I not only enter
ed into conversation with the blue dom
inc, but began to question her, begging
her to refresh my dulled souvenirs. and
tell me when and where I had previous
| ly met her. Was it in London? In
Paris? In the country? She shook her
head negatively at each query, and re-
fused to vOuchsafe any enlightenment,
only repeating, with charming perti-
nacity. II know thee!'
| Growing moro and more excited and
interested, I earnestly implored her to
| teOll me at least who she was. No.
Well, would she lift her mask but for
one instant and let me see her face?
| walked eloquent. told her [ knew she
was beautiful; hat-Ihesitated-tha
remembered her now. in spite of dis
! guiSed face and voice; that she was
Helen. | waited. She did not shake her
head quite so positively this time but
enough to send subtle wave of the
| heliOtrOpe perfume around me. Helen
Ardine" l added. mentioning my
| WhilOm pretty neighbOr's name, who
had been married some time.
She eluded the direct answer, but
coming closer to me she slipped her arm
within mine confidently and whispered:
IF / know you and you know me,
why waste our time in senseless CUES
tionings and "reminiscences? We are
here to enjoy ourselves; let us begin to
do so-and that! for the past
She snapped her fingers with sharp
noise as of castanets, which could never
have been achieved by an English
woman. and before I had time to realize
that she was not Helen after all she
had led me away. Arm in arm we
walked together in the crowded opera
| house, or set side by side in secluded
corners. | was no longer shocked or
disguised by the strange, grotesque or
vulgar sights around me; the blue dom
inc seemed to throw glamor over them.
[ pressed close to my heart the rounded
arm that rested on mine.
Once, in the heavy shadow Of drap-
ed balcony, I lifted her pretty fingers
to my lips. l told her that she was dis
tractingly lovely, although the jealous
mask only allowed an occasional flash Of
white teeth to shine through the lace,
for she never lifted the cup once. In
fact, l made love to her us if l had had
a lifelong experience. Where was my
awe of woman now? l was lifted out
of myself by her gracious presence
| Surely she must bH some foreign grande
dame, some aristOcratic beauty, seek
ing an hour of freedom from a loveless
| life of thraldom and etiquette. I would
| become her knight, and like a chival-
rous gentleman crafty her desire and
respect her secrets.
| In answer to my oft repeated ques-
%Hn, Shall we meet again" She
answered at last Perhaps in an eng
NAUTICAL but not discouraging manner.
l pressed her closer to my side anr muir
INJURED, "Angelp' I do not know what
should have added had she not at that
moment quickly slipped her arm from
mine, and before could ask the reason
of that swift movement she was engulf-
ed in noisy malice Of debardeurs and
clodoches hurrying to the last gallop Of
| the night
1 sought the blue satin domingo and
waving feather fan through the entire
building-in the boxes, the Hobbies, the
passages my steps hundred
times in my fruitless quest. I repeated
" asked the bystanders if they had
seen the woman I had described; they
shrugged their shoulders, and read in
their humorous smile the old sentence,
"SOnt-ils betes, ces Anglais?'
At last, in the gray dawn, I left the
opera h0use-Or rather I was politely
informed by the janitOrds that must
do so. I went back to my rooms at the
Continental to ponder on the nights