The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-09-13

dancer, l StoOu surveying a Ddu IOotn sne
winters evening some years ago. The
cav scene now before me was in striking
contrast to those among which my life,
for the last year or so, had been passed;
for l had but recently returned from an
exploration expedition into the recesses
of Africa an expedition to which I had
been attached in medical capacity.
1t was a great change to return TO the
comforts and luxuries of civilization after
nv exile, and, as l gazed on the brilliant
scene before me, 1 thought what a diff
ferent world it>was from the tropical jun
giles in which my time had been passed of
late. For long months 1, like the rest of
nv party, had travelled with my life in
nv hand on guard against attack from
savage beast or yet more savage man.
Here all spoke of ease and security. Even
the smiling countenances around me were
cast in a totally different mould from
here l suddenly started, for at my side,
standing back in the shadow of the pas
sage, l caught sight of a man with an ex-
preston on his face which, had beheld
it on the countenance Of one of our ne
gro carriers, would have caused me to lay
instant hand on my revolver
Men who live among perils become sing
uarly watchful of such danger signals;
and here, in civilized England, upon the
countenance of a gentleman in taultless
evening costume, l recognized an express
sion which had beheld often before in
my experiences among the savage tribes
"a look of that deadly concentrated hate
which is meditating some swift act of VEN
geance Such an expression had swept
over the features of one of our native por-
tiers before he had brutally murdered one
Al, g..
Cied injury. But people do not shoot
poisoned arrows in civilized drawing
rooms; and as 1 glanced again on my
neighbor he had reassumed that placid
semi-bored expression which is character
istic of the guest who does not dance at
ball Only for moment had the man
suffered the conventional mask to slip
aside, and the natural savage instinct to
show itself. l now surveyed my neighbor
with some interest. He was a strikingly
handsome man of some thirty years old
dark-haired, dark-eyed and with some.
thing foreign in his whole appearance l
learned afterwards that his mother had
been an Italian. He himself singularly
resembled one of those portraits of a
gentleman" by an old Spanish or Italian
master, whose dark, handsome but some
what sinister faces, look down upon us in
many picture gallery; faces to be adj
mired and feared rather than trusted.
one could imagine a jealous Venetian
noble lurking behind a pillar to wavlav
some hated rival, with just such an exnres-
SION as had noted fitting over my
neighDors face; and, as / followed the
olrecuon in which the man had scowled.
perceived that it was the old story
Cherchez la femme"
MOVING gracefully together amid the
nlazes Oh the dance were lovely girl and
hne-IoOklng young man. 1t needed little
penetration to guess the relations in which
tley stood to each other, their loving.
hdppy chances revealing their secret
plainly. A betrothed pair, and the reject
ed suitor at my side-the facts were obvi-
GUS enough
You've not been introduced to Clara
yeL nave you?" said a voice beside me.
ana turned to behold my host. James
Nilllers and l had been fellow-collegian
st oxford, but had seldom met since we
iert Christchurch. He had settled down ON
ms estate after his fathers death. and re-
s,ueu altogether there, with his pretty
.o"ns sister VINO was many years his Jun
Ior while | had been working busilv ar
my profession abroad and at home 40
cluent had now brought me into Villiers'
nelshporhood. 1 was visiting friends
near Wretham Hall, James abode. and
my OLD college chum had FASTENED to
looh me up, and insisted upon both I.
anu tne family with whom was STAYING,
giving
day. M d p4rth-
nad somewhat got "out of touch" with
INHlzed festivities, but Villiers would
saAe no denial, and I attended the ball as
g.. l. suppose that beautiful girl in white
% 'Gur SISTER. She seems to be the queen
" the evening" / said, CHANGING at the
young lady whom had before observed:
, Tl'u men, as l looked again on the fair
SVgns lace, lighted up with happiness. I
Suued lnvoluntarily: How lovely she is p
- rGneSt James face flushed with kindly
P. .sJt5 he adored his young sister
ro vel We seen worse looking girls he
Unmarked, !. complacently, "but the best of
~ Is that she's better than she's pretty
HUoyweVer I'm to lose her before long"
49, Mar tlndale carries her off in a month
IN W.. ~. SAID the squire, nodding his head
MT e.Ie direction of the dancers, land I
, noa5 complain, l suppose, for he is a
SSoou iellow, and worthy even of Clara:
out . . hali VIII be different place with
OUT my little girl"
lou VIII have to get married yourself"
James laughed.
v,o IIhe enough to think about that. 1t
CIT, Gu De easy to find a woman to fit
7 ra,.s SHOES l can tell you. However,
r, EVER expected to keep her very long
win me, and indeed she might have gone
away long ago." s0-''
ron can imagine Miss villiers has had
many ADMIRERS"
T. auinirers, yes. and lovers, too Why
lines INES lowered his voice, and glanced
90 SSulu' then finding that the attractions
az cotillion had diverted both dancers
~ ~ KNOCKERS to the other end of the
d ooin, and that we were now alone in the
way he added, "Clara had an ex-
so5 ent oner year ago from a neighbor.
in rlch man, too-a far better match
ina worldly point of view than she's maxi
~ rs now-but she wouldn't hear of 1t. so
,tte no more to be said"
s,,,i fancy / have seen the disappointed
..I,r here this evening"
r. Llkely enough, he is at the ball. II
W. PIT rough on him, poor fellow. for
a, All known each other from children
Sao II seems he'd always, in his own mind
Cr'1ueu that Clara was to be his wife
i.ny, you see he d settled It without TAX
{, s ner feelings into account, and when
btC anne 70 the point, though she liked
M r..n w friend and a nrother-you know
bta the girls say-she'd no mind to take
I. 'u IN any other capacity. / fancy" and
daines laughed, that Clara and Martini
al