Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1895-10-26
Dots Burglar.
BY B. X. PHILLIPS.

luz JILL, CenIuIy-O lu ciOCk Ill tHc
quaint tiled hall clangs forth the
hour.
Gwen closes her book and counts
the nine discordant strokes.
"Dear me- she yawns, II thought
it was eleven, at least. Fancy ris-
ing, "what our friends in town would
think of retiring at this hour"
''But you are not really going to
bed? I protest. l am not at all
sleepy
"And it is not you who are going, y
she laughs pfovokingly. "What lot
of trouble you always borrow, Dot,
to be sure. Now when you have liv.
ed so long as l you will have learn
ed better"
II hope,' / retort, snappishly, 81
will never learn, if I live to be huu-
dred. TO be as disagreeable and sell
fish as you are, Gwendolen Kayne. "
Gwendolen smiles in her superior,
irritating way, as she takes full and
satisfactory stock Of her beautiful
person in the cheval mirror.
"And since when, Dolly, have l
become 'disagreeable and selfish, in
your estimation Once upon time
/ know you thought your big sister
was perfection
''And SO did, and 50 you were.
Gwen, before-before you went
abroad with Aunt Helen. You have
never been the same since that gloomy
winter in France, when | was pack
ed off to convent and you stat l in
Paris. / have hated Paris ever
since"
Sand so have l." assents Gwen,
quickly, with a downright sincerity
that amazes me, sand not without
cause, Dolly, for Paris was most
cruel to me. 1t robbed me of my
greatest treasure-my heart, my
faith, my self-resp ct. In Paris my
pride was leveled to the dust, and l
was Inundated to the very depths.
In Paris, Dolly, 1 first learned the
wondrous bitter-sweet lesson Of low.
ing, with its inevitable sequence of
anguish and despair. Yes, child, /,
too, hate Paris"
She is restlessly pacing the floor
now, her hands clasped above her
head, the loose sleeves of her tea
gown falling back, revealing the mar
velous white beauty of her arms.
"Tell me about it, Gwen" 1 plead
eagerly. ''Do, it is good night for
story
"Story," she echoes scornfully, Sit
is not worthy the name, it is at best
but weak, p;tiful confession, and
one had thought, ay, sworn, never
to reveal But, alas we cannot
guage our own strength and weak
ness. and tonight it all comes back
to me so wildly, so overpoweringly,
that l am compelled to speak of it.
The very air seems rife with the fra
GRANGE of the old memories, the sheen
of the old sweetness and glory. He
was young Englishman, Dolly,
handsome, kingly, noble, chivalrous,
in short, everything that was adora-
ble."
"And you, accordingly, adored.'
"Yes, I adored. He adored. We
both adored."
Sand then p
"Oh /! then there was brief space
of heavenly, ecstatic happiness such
as the angels are supposed to revel
in"
Sand then p breathlessly.
Then" with a hateful, inimitable
Parisienne shrug. s.Then he was
cross, surly, Jealous, unbearable. He
quarreied.'
sYou mean, Gwen, that she quar-
reled.'
II mean nothing of the kind loft
lily, ait was all his fault; he
II do not believe it. know
lyon know nothing about it, you
absurd child, how could your"
"But know something about you,
Gwen, about your abominable pride,
your insuferable arrogance, your
reckless wilfulness. I know that you
| have been Melted snoiled f3attared