The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-03-08

sight? Coming around the corner was a
young woman, but she was invisible 10
IL was 10 me that this funeral ges-
lure was addressed. / did not under
stand him and therefore crossed The
threshold had scarce ascended three
steps OF the staircase, when a loud cry
resounded behind me: "Stop-you have no
cravat,'
Initiating the gesture OF Don Caesar de
Bazan carried my hand to my neck
Alas, II was true, ] had lost my craVaJ
Don't laugh. i didn't laugh II was my
SIliy craNaI- ~ was one OF those cheap
black knots which are fastened around the
collar button with a rubber band. tlNc
minutes before entering the courtyard or
the Louvre / had stopped in the Rue de
ttlVOli, gazed at myself cOmplacently In
a shop window mirror and had adjusted
my craNat Alasi 1 had done more than
ADJUST my cravat-I had lost il.
1t is against the rules" said the guard
ian ian severely, to permit any one to enter
me gallery without a craVat-'
We'll, he was right There must be rules
ln the great national galleries and while
they viii admit shabby people, they will
not admit people in rags. in their shirt
sleeves or without cravats.
Al this moment the lady who had been
rounding the corner passed near me.
Ielt myself growing red and pale at once,
and / turned in the direction of my guar
dian on order 10 look away from the pref
" visitor, who, as she passed. brushed
me with her Silken gown. She wore the
pretuest little blue cravat around her
neck that one could imagine. Yes I
OF the corner OF my eye at her white neck.
stood there stunned. The guardian
enjoyed my CONSERVATION. He was hap
Ply. In this moment he exercised the ex-
aited pleasure of authority. a police
man who orders you to move on expe-
rienceS the same secret Joy. 1t is that
feeling. doubtless. which actuated Gaze
sar and Napoleon.
l remained there for some minutes, gaz-
ing at this little great man. l had moth
ing in my wardrobe which resembled in
the slightest degree cravat. and l had
not a penny about me with which to buy
one. To whom could 1 address myself.
1 was from the country. / knew no one
IN Paris. / had no comrades from which
1 could borrow knot of ribbon. What
a humiliation And yet, above there in
the gallery. the wassailers were waiting
Tor me, laughing and drinking under the
grape arbor.
left the vestibule. 1 entered the great
square of the Louvre, and crossed il me-
chanicaly. Yet as / did so l felt instinct
lively that there was some one following
that it was the woman whom l had met
in the door, and who had turned and re-
descended the staircase at the moment of
my misadventure. Why had she followed
me? Had 1 not turned my face in order
to avoid her glance? Heaven preserve
us from inquisitive people.
She overlook me. 1t was in truth the
lady of the staircase. She stopped in front
of me- looking at me timidly, with a
charming embarrassment. She seemed
moved and troubled. Her beautiful eyes
were tear-dimmed But, said l to myself.
what has become of the pretty ribbon she
just wore around her neck2 Her hands
were buried in a rich muff. AS she stopped
and loked at me, she withdrew one of her
hands from her muff / saw in her fling
ers the light-blue silk cravat, ornamented
at its ends with white lace. IAN entrance
ticket" said she to me. in a half whisper,
and she hurried away.
Here the artist stopped and meditated
long.
You followed her. suppose?" asked his
friend.
Il never dreamed of it for a moment.
The wassailers of Teners were waiting for
me-"
And you entered the Louvre in a blue
cravat with lace ends2"
without the least affectation, without
false shame. and perhaps with a certain
pride as l triumphantly passed the green
and gold guardian at the gate.
"And you found her some day some
where, this pretty woman. at the seaside,
in the mountains, In society? No? But
you are married-did she not become your
| wife?'
II did not say remarked the painter.
dryly.
but your story is not finished"
Il am a painter, my dear boy. / finish
| pictures but l never knew how to finish
/ a story"