The evening times., 1896-01-07
In a Private Box.
From Tid-Bits.

first met the man III u LDihon caie,
indeed, up to the time OF the occurrence
am about 10 relate / had never been IN
his company elsewhere. He used to- play
chess there, and SO did /: and our ac-
uuaintancc' had been confined To chats
across the chcckered board was an en-
thusiast at the g:inc, while he. though
much stronger player, seemed TO use chess
as a solacc for some trouble, or to divert
his mind from unpleasant Thoughts. Of
this / was convinced.
Many months passed before l even knew
his name, which L at last discovered to be
Francesca Astarita. He was a decidedly
good-,ookiug Italian about thirty years OF
age but his features already bore lines OF
care or afflictioh-I could never tell which,
alwa VS. found him very variable in manner.
Sometimes he would be almost affable at
others silent and morose. hut there was al
ways a dash of melancholy in his conver-
satiou.
We met only at night, and l gathered
that he held some mercantile appointment
in the city. He spoke almost perfect Eng
lish.
..Wfn you have a game?' l said one
evening. as l took seat opposite TO him
at one of the handicapped tables. Il
should like to try that variation in the Ruy
Lopez again"
No. thank you" he replied gruffiy, Il
am just going.
.Ynu are not feeling unwelL hope9'
He certainly looked very pale and care
worn, but he gave no answer. A sckly
SMILE half sneer, stole over his face.
A few minutes later he rose. put on his
hat. and. with a curt Coed night" strobe
toward thedoor. Then he suddenly stopped
came back and said:
II am going to the Jollity. Do you care
to come I have taken private box-quite
alone
Music halls, even when called theaters
or varieties, were not much to my taste;
but / was disappointed of my chess, for
there was no other person present with
whom / cared to play. and at any rate l
could come away from the Jollty when
was tired.
So | accepted his Invitation, and we
stroIled along the street together. He was
unusually silent. and, as l failed in several
attempts to get him into conversation, L
at length fell back upon my own thoughts.
What could induce a man of his teinpera-
mcnt to go to a music hall-especially
In such a particularly unsociabie mood'
Could il he possible that the entertainment
would take his mind off his troubles? That
he had troubles and serious ones, l could
not for moment doubt. But what most
astonished NE was to find him indulging
in the luxury OF a private box. Tor WAS
sure that he was a man of slender means.
The ticket might have been given To him,
but he had distinctly said fnat he had
taken it," wnich h meant hired it,
The bright and briliia ntly decorated
house was already crowded III many parts
when we took our seats and the entertain
ncnt mad begun. A girl in an idealized male
attire was singing a song with a rolicking
chorus and youths were grinning with en-
joymcnt at the same old jokes that their
fathers and grandfathers had relished in
days gone by.
Astarua looked horribly bored. He sat
at the back of the box In silence sud
denly he pulled his chair nearer to mine and
became communicative.
"You can't understand me" he said.
.You think l am not happy. Well, l am
not. And do you suppose this program is
likely to cheer me, Come back out of that
noise | will tell you my story-a true
story-a page out of my own life"
The audience was appiauding, and
moved my chair into the interior of the
box.
MY father was an Italian
so should judge by your name,"NI in
terrupted.
Yes: but when he died / was very young.
Nv mother was English. Ny home was at
Naples. When was lad went into the
office of large firm of fruit merchants
there. l stuck hard at my work for some
wears and l was doing very well Then I
met the only woman l ever Ioved-I must
have been about 25-and the only woman
i believed to he worthy of my devotion.
All. those were happy days!'
Astarita paused in his story. and seemed
to be dwelling on memories of the past
what was ] saying?" he suddenly began
again. All yes, l remember Angela
knew my love and returned it. There was
not a shadow on our path, until an English
scoundrcl called Herbert Ross appeared on
the scene. never knew what brought him
to Naples. but he came, and while there, in
an evil hour, met my sweet'Angela.
THAT man, sir, had what the world
calls winning manner. He could talk
well, played the violin, andswas an anna
teur conjurer and ventriloquist. The world
loves a mountebank, and there were plenty
of fools in Naples ready to welcome him as
a guest The villain fascinated my AnGe-
liDa-instilled into her desire to go on the
stage. He had influence with actors and
managers every where, and as her parents
were dead. and she wasliving withfriends, he
had no difficulty In getting her an engage
ment.
..She was mad. But saw through his
scheme. He wanted to get ber away from
me and persuade her to marry him. Yes,
he succeeded. Two years later she was his
wife-his wife-aDd lost to me forever"
The orchestra was playing loudly and
] drew my chair farther back.
Can you not guess that IL broke my
heart? l could not stay in Naples. / came
to London. / met her in Piccadilly one day
last August. We walked in the Green Park,
and 1 spent the bappiest hours 1 have
known since the old time in Naples.
''At first she declared that she was
happy; but do you not think could read
her face? 1 told her that did not believe
her. She wept, and confessed that she was
leading miserable life. And how happy
Il hQua 10 EafI Ind ha
stage? Yes, but not only that Her hus-
band, who was now a professional enter
tainer, was cruel to her. He had struck
her-yes, struck beri
81 said, L will avenge you.'
=" No, no. she cried. For my sake do
not raise "A hand against him. Promise me,
Francesca.
what could do? promised her that
while she lived would not touch him. And