The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1896-02-07
In A PRIVATE BOX.

don care; lnueeu, up 70 the tifhe VI the
occurrence am about to relate | had
never been iii his company elsewhere,
He used to play chess there, and so
did l, and our acquaintance had been
confined to chats across the checkered
board. Twas an enthusiast at the game,
while he, though much stronger
player, seemed to use chess rs solace
for some trouble, OF to divert his mind
from unpleasant thoughts. OF this |
was convinced.
Many months passed before l even
knew his name, which l at last discov-
cred to be francesca Astarita. He was
o decidedly good-loolling Italian, about
80 years of age, but his features already
bore lines of care or ofiliction, never
could tell which. always found him
very variable in manner. Sometimes
he would be almost affable, at others
silent and morose, but there was al
ways dash of melancholy in his con-
versation.
We met only at night, and gathered
that he held some mercantile appoint
ment in the city. He spoke almost
perfect English.
I" Will you have a gamer" said, one
evening, as l took a seat opposite to
him at one of the handicapped tables,
II should like to try that variation in
the Ruy Lopez again."
mo, thank you,' he replied, gruffly.
81 am just going"
~,
"You are not feeling unwell, hopeP'
He certainly looked very pale and
careworn, but he gave no answer. A
sickly smile, half sneer, stole over his
face.
A few minutes later he rose, put on
his hat, and, with curt Goodnight
strobe toward the door. Then he sud-
denly stopped, came back, and said:
81 am going to the Joility. Do you
care to come? I have taken a private
box-quite alone"
Music halls, even when called thea.
tiers or varieties, were not much to my
taste, but I was disappointed of my
chess, for there was no other person
present with whom / cared to play
and, at any rate, / could come away
from the Jollity which I was tired.
So I accepted his Invitation, and we
strolled along the street together. He
was unusually silent, and as failed in
several attempts to get him into con-
versation, at length fell back on my
own thoughts.
What could induce q man of his
10, {o 41 ~ oil
especially in such a particularly un'
sociahle mood? Could it be possible
| that the entertainment would take his
mind off his troubles? That he had
troubles, and serious ones, 7 could not
for moment doubt. But what most
astonished me was to find him in.
dulging in the luxury of a private box
| for l was sure that he was n man Of
slender means. The ticket might have
been given to him, but he had distinct
ly said that he had taken it." which
meant "hired it."
The bright and brilliantly decorated
house was already crowded in many
| parts when we took our seats and the
entertainment had begun. A girl in or
| idealized male attire was singing song
with rollicking chorus, AMI youths
were grinning with enjoyment at the
same old jokes that their fathers an6
grandfathers had relished in days gone
by.
Astarita looked horribly bored. HI
sat at the back of the box in silence
Suddenly he pulled his chair nearer tt
| mine and became communicative.
"You can't understand me-" he said
"You think l am not happy. Well,
am not. And do you suppose this pro
gramme is likely to cheer me? Come
back out of that noise. will tell 20,
a story-a true story-a page out O.
my own life"
The audience was applauding, ant
/ moved my chair into the interior O
the box.
"My father was an Italian
$50 I should judge by your name,
I interrupted.
| ayes; but he died when was yer,
young, and my mother was English
| My home was at Naples. When l wal
lad went into the office of a large
firm of fruit merchants there. stucl
hard at my work for some years, and
was doing very well. Then l met TIT
only woman l ever loved-I must hav'
been about 25-and the ouly woman
believed to be worthy of my devotion
All, those were happy days!"
Astarita paused IN his story, ant
seemed to be dwelling on memories o
| the past.
"What was 1 sayjng?' he suddenl.
began again. "Ah, yes, l remember
Angela knew OF my love and returned
it. There was not shadow on oul
path-until an English scoundrel
called Herbert Ross, appeared on thu
scene. l never knew what brough
him to Naples, but he came, and whil'
there, in an evil hour, met her-m.
sweet Angela.
"That man, sir, had what the worlt
calls a winning manner. He could tall
well, played the violin, and was an anna
teur conjurer and ventriloquist. Th'
| world loves mountebank, and ther'
were plenty of fools in Naples read,
to welcome him as n guest. The villail
fascinated my Angela-instilled int
her desire to go on the stage. He hat
| influence with actors and manager
everywhere, and, as her parents wer
dead, and she was living with friends
he had no difficulty in getting her al
engagement.
| "she was mad. Dut se~, throusl
his scheme. He wanted to get her ava,
from me, and persuade her to MARI
him. Yes, he succeeded. Two year
later she was his wife-his wife-an
lost to me forever"
The orchestra was playing loudly
and l drew my chair farther back.
Can you not guess that it broke m
heart? I could not stay in Naples,
came to London. Only once since he
marriage have seen Angela. I me
her in Piccadilly one day last Angus
We walked in the Green park. 1t wa
the happiest hour have known sine
the old time in Naples.
"At first she declared that she WI
| A. tnlr