The Olneyville tribune. (Providence, R.I.) 1893-189?, 1894-06-09
= TTadsgaT'S MlStaks.

III WAS NJ Iduy IlOTsHdlu IcpdIlu
at Dippington that Gordon Melrose
met Lady Sciva on his return from
Japan after an absence OF nearly two
years. Lady Sciva was the youthful
widow Of sexagenarian peer, and
Gordon Melrose - well, everybody
knows Gordon Melrose. The two were
old friends-but friends who had seen
very little of one another for years.
There was almost spice OF strange
ness TO season the friendship.
Melrose secured IA dance and beg
ged that they might sit it out.
"The terrace is beautifully cool, "
he said, "and this room is so terribly
hot-and, truth TO tell, am no great
dancer"
And Lady Sciva consented readily
enough.
And so, when the time came, the
pair left the noise and riot Of the
ballroom for the fragrant silence and
darkness Of the terrace.
How very dark it isv' said the
beautiful widow after awhile-and
she peered out at the night and its
thousand frets Of fire. They were
seated at the end OF the terrace,
which overlooked the bay, where in
Vulnerable fotilla Of yachts lay
smoothly at anchor under the mid
night sky.
81 love darkness, replied Melrose.
1T is like the enchanter's wand,
which can invest with beauty and
mystery even the most commonplace
OF things. remember once, in the
Tavundra Valley, some engineering
person had run an iron bridge across.
Commonplace people call this tri-
umph Of something or other. But TO
me it was mere modern abomina-
ton. clumsily shaped in iron, night
mS&e Of rivets and girders, destined
TO end in mere rust-that is, by days
But at night-when the magician
waved his wand-the clumsy brick
towers stood out like giants on the
heights, and they seemed to be
swinging hugo chains across the
abyss for Titans to skip to. 1t was II
wonderful sight. / never shall for
get it,"
He paused awhile, and then con-
tinued:
But there is one dark place on
this earth which is not made beauti-
full by darkness, and that is the cor
ner where they keep the reasons why
women do unaccountable things.
She shot glance at him, but his
face seemed inscrutable in the dark
ness.
What do you mean2" she de-
manded
II will tell you story. II you
have heard it before, or don't like it,
stop me. Once upon n time-it is IL
fairy tale, only fairy tale, you un-
observation-disclosures were man and
a girl-in Japan. The girl was the
most beautiful thing that the world
had ever seen--a fair delicate flower
grown in the very garden OF Nenus's
own self. And the man was devoted
to her;
The lover said, "For one touch of her
hand
would naJ give Balkh'I I would give samark-
So sweet shs-.sr' The Bulbul sang be-
tween,
" Rose of rare sweetness. Shirin! Shirinp
"Is that the way you used to talk
to the Japanese ladies?"
Not quite that way. In the first
place, they would not be worthy.
And the man -"
Was he beautiful thing, too?"
struck in Lady Sciva with sarcastic
note-"a poetical prince of fairy
land"
mo. He was real man. Not
like me, you understand, who am not
real, however attractive, but real
man, who did things, and wished to
do things-the kind Of man like,
though l don't do things myself
and who fell in love like n raging
madman-of six feet two, with mus
tache-furiously, unreasonably, wa
vering between breaking somebody
else's head and blowing out his own
brains on the slightest provocation-
or none, for choice-quite regardless
Of the Inconvenience to others. Does
the story bore your"
mo" replied Lady Sciva, in n
faint voice.
'For three months he was the de-
voted slave of the girl, now madly
exulting in the belief that he was
loved, and anon thrust down in the
blackest gulf Of despair, when he
thought he was being played with.
know this because the man had one
friend, whom he confided in and even
consulted-though only with the
view Of rejecting advice-and this
was an aged man, who lives on the
slopes of the great mysterious noun
tain Fuji-in flat-and he mentioned
the story to me-"
Continue" said Lady Sciva, in
hushed tones.
This man Tradegar came to m-my
aged friend one day, and said, with a
CHASTITY face and eyes that glittered
like points Of ice, and a voice like the
spectre OF a dead voice, 1T is all
over. She has sent me TO the right