The Roanoke times. (Roanoke, Va.) 1897-1977, 1897-05-13
THE HIGHESTBI BIDDER

1t was Mt Brussels, in the auction
rooms at the orncr of the streets Leo
pold and Wiertz, that the incident hap
pened. My friend was an Englishman,
but he had lived long in tho country
and had acquired taste for the Bel
gian arts that seemed almost native,
and that made him something Of col
lector. The sale ut the rooms was to be
very similar to sale at Sothebys and
the catalogue referred to original man.
uscripts and first editions and to u hun
dred things loved by the curioso. My
friend was present in the hope of secur-
ing some early engravings, and I was
with him as part of the idleness Of a
holiday. We were early, and while
waiting tho time of tho sale we looked
together at the catalogue, and he enter.
tanned mo with talk Of this and that
entry.
This number should be interesting,
he said, pointing to limo Oh tho first
page, 1.-THE love letters of Outline, our
poet of love. Keats letters, you remem
Der, wero sold in London not long ago.
and one of your verse makers wrote Il
lamcnting sonnet. Outline was not so
great poet as Keats, but his passion
for Jetta Tetcrol was rs wildly spoken
as tho others|for Fanny Brawne Your
verse maker was right. 1t is hard that
because q man has given part of his soul
to tho world the world should want the
whole. But the curious are innocent of
modesty, and-yes, the number should
he interesting.
There will be fight for the letters
you think?" I said
Yes, probably. Outline has some
thing of a vogue just now. The women
are discovering that he wrote as in their
best hours they think. And indeed it
was tender, womanly muse. The lit
tie man standing by the tablc-him
with the glasses, 1 mean-will, think,
get them. He is professor at the uni
yersity, and doubtless meditates an arti-
Gle i'll one Of the reviews. Himself with
out sentiment, ho will criticise their
sentiment. Already he has written moro
than one unkind thing about the Gui-
tine morals. Tho letters will give him
yet new text"
fOr moment or two looked at tho
professor hard, thin face and sympa-
thlZed with the dead poet. then as the
auctioneer mounted to his place and
commenced the days sale turned my
eyes to ono and another in the room
Mostly tho crowd was of men, dealers
or chance buyers, but here and there
were women with the usual catalogue
and pencil, and among them was one
whose dress and manner interested me
even to curiosity. Near to us she STOOD
lmpatiently buttoning and unbuttoning
glove, and saw that she was pretty,
but somewhat too well dressed and
somewhat too freely jeweled.
Do you know" I asked my friend.
"who is the girl to our right?''
He looked and slightly shrugged his
shoulders and said: Eyes, she is Marie
Carbara, one Of the actresses at the new
theater. She is only minor actress
but you see her cloak and tho brooch
clasping it. They arc all alive, these
pretty singers and dancers. All love tho
sunshine and the butterfly life. What
brings Marie here do not know, nor
what makes her so angry with her glove.
The boudoir wants picture, perhaps
That was very little for the Louis vases
Ah, hero arc tho Outline letters. They
will fetch more.'
The auctioneer spoke of the poet and
OF his love for Jetta Tcterol and of his
ri inc t.Nl r