Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1894-10-11

ridiculous obstinacy. And thought
more about him than she would have
done if she had met him in the ordinary
way and he had been dangling at her
skirts for score of afternoons
Dick filed the vacancy on the May
fair Mirror, and chair in Cynthia
Charrington's drawing-room on many
Sunday afternoons.
~ owe my luck to you," he said to
her on the occasion of his first visit to
| her handsome fiat. 81 shall never for
| get your kindness"
One day she went to the piano of her
own accord and sang to him for half
an hour. Previously he had only
heard her in public, and it seemed to
| him that her glorious voice had never
sounded so well as it did now in the
| privacy of her home. The mans pulses
| throbbed, and his head swan. He
would have liked to throw his arms
around her. When she stopped he
took up his hat.
''What! are you going already?" she
exclaimed, in surprise.
He muttered some excuse about
work TO do" and left her with his
brain on fire. He had suddenly real
lied fact that frightened him.
| On his way home he bought photo
graph OF her and hung it up in his
room. He had scarcely done so when
he tore it down again with wrath in
his eyes.
"Tm a fool-an ass! Because Il wom-
un behaves like an angel to me | for
! get that I'm poor devil of a journalist
and she's-Cynthia Charrington."
He made "a bonfire of it in the empty
| CRATE, and watched it craclS,e and curl
in the tongues of Ganc, with a fierce
delight in his own agony. Then he
went out, on Il wet night, and bought
another TO take its place. The little
| incident was typical of his frame of
mind.
For who.e fortnight he never went
.near her. then flesh and blood could
bear it no longer, and he tramped to
Kensington one Sunday afternoon.
"What have you been doing with
yourself?" she demanded. ~ have
missed you"
''It is very good of you to say So" he
said, gloomily.
While he was there man he knew
called, and, by anl-by, they left to-
| gether.
"Do you go there much?" asked his
companion, after they had turned the
corner and lighted up.
"Pretty often" replied Dick, putting
at his cigarette and staring at nothing
| particular.
Hum" said the man. II thought
! So"
He smiled. Dick scowled.
What the deuce are you grinning
| at?"
"Dicky, you're a hassl You don't de-
serve your luck. That woman's fond
Of you, and you're eating your heart
out because you can't see it."
"Rotl" said Dick, gruffiy. But he
caught his breath and his eyes glowed.
You have the ball at your feet and
! you won't kick it. 1t doesn't come to
every man to have II Cynthia Charring-
J ton in love with him"
"I tell you she doesn't care hang
for me in that way. You mistake what
| is merely n platonic interest for-the
| other thing. don't. And ! value her
friendship too much to let her think
me cad enough to sell my sclf-respect
and sink my identity in Miss Char
rington's husband for the sake of the
fleshpots of Egypt You can drop the
subject, Amyot."
81 won't go near her for month";"
said poor, proud Dick to himself as he
walked home. II must accustom my
| self To doing without her"
A week passed-a week of over
strung nerves, of cold detection, OF
| fcvcrisb desire. Then he had shock.
She was ill., she had been i'll for sew
eral days, and her understudy had
taken her place in the opera.
There was something wrong with
her throat, reported the Comet, in the
most fiowery and grandiloquent of
journalism. She would never sing
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