The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1896-07-16
HIS SPANISH GIRL.

HIS SPANISH GIRL.
wondered why Barry should be sit.
ting alone in the garden at 10 O'Clock
on fine miSwinter night AS remem-
bered him, he had been sociable sort
of fellow. fond of gayety and pretty
girls, and there was cotillon going
ON indoors in the ballroom. wondered,
too, where his wife was for he had told
me he was married.
1t was six years since / had last seen
him. We had been boys together, just
out of college, and | had visited him
for summer in the southern part of
the state, where his home had always
been and where his family was one of
the few "old" ones which could right
ly lay claim to gentihty of other than
mushroom growth
After that visit l had gone back to
San Francisco and to truly San Fran
cisco system of work, with the result
that my health and spirits had steadily
decreased, and at the end of these half
dozen years was obliged to come south
for long rest.
| had chosen this delightful and
quiet hotel in the hope that | might not
have my peace disturbed by any of my
numerous acquaintances, but here, the
first thing, came down upon us in our
retreat a crowd of workings from town,
bent on dancing a cotillon. Barry had
come with them. Why, then, | repeat
ri hn IN ha haI
where was his wife? Perhaps she did
not dance. But, in that case, why was
either of them with the frivolous party
that was turning our secluded spot into
bedlam?
For n moment longer l let my gaze
follow girl in white satin. who had
fascinated me. She was very young and
brilliant and erect, with the face
painter would have chosen for Olym-
pia's, wreathed i'll vines and serpents
A high, unnaturally white forehead,
with very black and very straight thin
brows eyes long and flashing and cruel,
large nose, suggestive of the Hebrew,
thin, red lips, continually parted III a
wild sort of smile over wonderful teeth /;
a brilliant color, a long face, black hair,
parted and twisted low on one of the
most columnar necks l had ever seen.
1t was not beautiful face. In repose
it was far from beautiful, but it was
rarely in repose, and her laugh was the
most bewildering thing imaginable. If
she had been the heroine of romance,
men would have loved and hated her to
the extent of the shedding of great
deal of blood, but i'll life today it is
hard cash, not women's faces, that &C
complish that. | took one last look at
the demoniacal young face and then
went to hunt up Barry
We had already met i'll the Office but
had not had time to exchange dozen
words. ] wanted to talk over old times
and new times, so, when | drew near
him, | scrapcd my feet and coughed,
as being the approved method of break
ing in upon totes-a-tetcs and meditation,
and when he started | said: alIcllo!
That you, Barry and took a seat be
side him on the bench. He offered me
cigar and gave me II light from which
| Inferred | was not unWclcome.
What are you doing, incoming UNI
der IA pepper tree? 1t seems to me dane
ing's more in your line, OF doesn't the
madam dance"'
Yes She dances -
"Ohn' | said, and feeling slippery
ground, proceeded to avoid it Game
down from town tonight with the par
ty, didn't you?' asked
YES. "
Heaps of pretty women.
do you think so? | admire your
northern women more. They have more
distinction too Ours fade carly, be-
sides. -
well, there's one girl there, by
Jove, that makes up for Il country of
mediocrity-thatw witch of firt with
the black hair and the very bare shout
ders who is dancing with Thornton If
l didn't happen to have some one | like
better i'll the city, | think I'd go in for
her. -
But she's married, my friend. "
mo? Who's the proud possessor?"
81 am -
'You don't say? Since when?"
Since five years ago nearly.
'Well, it's little late, but permit
me to congratulate you. She is superb "
Thanks. And then we lapsed into
silence, and l reflected upon the facility
with which we'll meaning man may
put his foot III it.
You wonder at my not dancing,
don't you?" he said abruptly. well, /
used to like it. | like it now, but |
found Mrs. Barry was already engaged.
so there was nothing for me to do but
to order flowers gracefully and step out
hereto reflect and recall
DO you know" he went on, Il had
a romantic meeting and parting on this
spot once, right under this very tree
1t was just after l left you, six years
ago-the meeting | had ridden. out
from town on Nocturnc. You remember
her the little black mare? | was walk
ing her along a road which ran about six
feet from here, just about where that
Bon Sllene bush is Git was before the
days of the hoteD, when alfof a sud
den she SHE'D at what looked like bun
die of old clothes under this tree. No,
no. / wasn't thrown, and | wasn't res
cued by the heroine 1t was not much
OF shy, just enough to make me look
again at the bundle and wonder what
1t was-it was dusk, you know-and
then to notice that the bundle moved.
L, 6 i