Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1896-06-18
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TRANSPLANTED.
1t was the biggest ball OF the season,
and the assembly room of the fashion
able watering place was looking its gay
est and brightest, thanks to lavish dec
Grafton and the Kaleidoscope effect pro-
duced by the throngs of brilliantly
dressed dancers rs they whirled round
in all the infinite variety and pictur-
esque incongruity of fancy costume.
And yet, despite all the life and color,
there was something fictitious and un-
real in the brilliant gayety of the pic
turesque scene; just as there was am
undertone of passionate pain In the
sweet music of the valse which rang
through the room, an undertone which
seemed strangely out of harmony with
the superficial enjoyment of the crowd.
Or was II only the look in girls face
that was out of keeping. and seemed at
once to give the lie to all the hollow pre-
tense of pleasure around her? To one
unobserved spectator this idea sudden
ly occurred with the force of convic-
ton.
1t was beautiful face, beautiful alike
in regularity of feature and exquisite
delicacy of coloring. But the smile on
the sweet mouth was forced and full of
unnatural gayety, while the great gray
eyes had haunting look of weariness
which gave them an indescribable
pathos. The girl was tall and slight,
1. 4 l. f,.I
though 1t was, seemed almost 100 rich
and elaborate for her slender figure.
She was young-scarcely one-and-twen-
ty-and looked even younger than her
years; and the man who was watching
her drew yet further back into the
shadow of the heavily curtained door
way as n food of memories rushed over
him-memories held in check till now
by an iron will, but released in a mo-
ment by the sight of the beautiful, sad
face that was all the world to him,
though for four long years it had passed
out of his life. How he had missed her!
Surely he had never fully realized 1t till
now.
A chance remark arrested his atten-
tion. Two men near We're talking to-
gether, commenting audibly enough on
the scene before them.
How charming Maud Carruthers Is
looking tonight! That girl grows
prettier every time l see herl"
rs II true that she's engaged tn
young Melbourne?"
Wants confirmation, l should say.
He's hard hit, and her people approve of
him naturally; he's well connected and
fabulously wealthy; but as to the fair
Maud herself-if she is engaged to him
she might look little more cheerful
over it."
"Yes, / shouldn't feel flattered in his
place." the younger man assented-
"She's not bit like the other girls one
meets about; don't know why. but she
seems out of 1t some how"
"Well, her story is rather an odd one
you know"
"But don't know more. Where does
the oddness come IMP Her people arc
conventional enough"
Yes; but she never saw them till
she was 16 or II; for her mother mar.
ried beneath her, and was cut in con
sequence. The marriage turned out
badly, | believe, and Mrs. Carruthers
died in Australia, where the child was
brought up by the people with whom
she was staying at the time; rather
rough and ready bringing up,
fancy"
Then how does she come to be here,
and forgivcn?"
ssOb II nu can,a mi anueho1y. Car
ruthers died. and then inquiries were
made as to the child's whereabouts,
and she was transplanted over here;
rather a change from her experiences
ia the bush"
"An agreeable one, should think"
HIN, that depends on how you look
at II! Now, from her point of view
we may be little tame and common
place. l don't know anything about It,
mind you, but It's just possible she
may prefer primitive nature to our
cnervating and overdone nineteenth
century civilization. To my mind the
girl looks bored"
"Then if she marries Melbourne"
ut will merely be to escape from
the present position. Since her grand
fathers death year ago, she has found
1t more wearisome than ever or Pm
much mistaken. She-was really fond OF
poor old Draycourt, but for the rest
of them-'Pon my soul, I'm sorry for
the grill"
The music ceased, and the speakers
moved away and the long procession
Of dancers began to pace out into the
cooler air of the long, hower-decked !
corridor.
But the man near them still kept his
place in the deep shadow of the our
tains, and watched, with eager eyes, |
TO see that tall, white-robed figure pass |
through the doorway.
But he watched in vain. He had lost |
sight of her just before the dance end
ed, and she had no doubt left the ball. |
room by some other door. From the |
station he had chosen he could COM |
mnnd the whole room, and he soon saw |
that Maud Carruthers was no longer
there.
And tonight he held every moment |
wasted in which she was out CT sight |
For the last time--it was for the last /
time-and already the precious mo-
ments were slipping rapidly awayl
He must find her again, even though |
In order To do 10 he must risk discovery |
and recognition.
Little risk that she would recognize |
him after four years, and in such wide
ly different surroundings His dress,
too, with It's heavy cloak and broad
somber hat, would surely be a sufficient
disguise if she should stirl chance TO
retain slight recollection OF her old
friend and would-be brother; the man
under whose roof all her happy child
hood had been passed.
And even II she did know him. wha,
then?
He was surely capable Of keeping his
secret still, rs he had kept It In the old
days She was little likely TO guess
il now in all the pride of her trium-
phant youth and beauty; now
when SO many younger, richer mer
were at her feet. Oh. he knew hi.