The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1897-09-05
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 1897.

yesterday. We killed Undertaking spins,
! both of themi'
| Cad, Bob, you should have been with
US! Old Simmons, the parson, came
beautiful a curler at the Devils Jump as
! ever l saw / nearly landed on the top
/ of him, but, thank the Lord. l managed
! TO get clear. I'm sorry for old Simmons;
| but he won't be wanted till Sunday, and
| We shall get OFF with a short sermon"
Both the men came with me to my
| room, but Jack left almost as once to
| give some orders Bridson was going, too,
/ but 1 stopped him.
sit down, Bridson. and tell me how the
| lay lies here / said.
| What a cute old lawyer you are,' he
| laughed. you are always cross-question-
| ing
1T requires lot of cross-examination
| to arrive at truth"
| There are a lot of people here-the
| usual types you know-people without
| virtues and without vices mostly. Two
| young artists, who while away their spare
hours by adoring Miss Wyndham; unfort-
unately, they can't ride. so their adora-
| ton Is limited"
| And your
well, Lob. am the usual fraud that
| an actor always is. The idea of meeting
| hummer gave a sort of pleasant shock
| to all the colorless people, which gave way
| to keen disappointment when they found
1
went to church on Sundays"
| How do you like Kitty"
| She is-look here, Williams, if weren't
| an unholy hummer I'd go in for her. AS
il is. 1 can't play it low as that She
| is wealthy-awfully wealthy-and / have
only five hundred a year outside my
| screw. Besides an actor-my dear fell
low; what would the world say?"
Are you in earnest?"
| Earnest? Look here, Williams, you
know some of us behind the footlights.
| We are not all of us bubbles to reflect
passing fancies for the amusement of the
gaping crowds. We have hearts-we are
| flesh and blood; we are probably not worse
than those who condemn US
II know that"
Then don't doubt my earnestness."
Il do not, if you really mean it
Il do; but it's no use ] avoid her as
much as possible. / am an actor-she is
| an heiress."
| You are Bridson."
mo, my family dropped me when 1
| went on the stage"
MY dear boy, you are fool No wo-
mansis worth more than an honest mans
love, and 1 am disbeliever enough in my
| experience Of men to believe that you are
| that-sn honest man."
| Williams, ] would not care 80 much if
that man Vernon were not hanging after
her. don't like him.
| jealousy"
Perhaps There's nothing wrong about
him. only-only he would not make her
! happy"
LAS you would"
You are laughing a me-"
mo; studying the egregious conceit of
| a man in love-
Well he continued, rising up from the
| bed on which he was sitting, Il have hon
estly striven to keep away from her but
my will gets weaker every day. Now 1
must go and dress"
At dinner that evening I sat next my
| hostess. Kitty was farther down the
table, next Sir George, with Bridson OPP
posite. Bridson was in the highest pos
| sible spirits, and as the laughter of his
| immediate circle grew more and more up
roarious the frown on Sir Georges face
grew deeper. Kitty was openly more at
tentive to her vis-a-vis than to the baro-
| net at her side.
AS we were going into the drawing-room
found myself alongside Brdson.
Going In for the race?'' / asked.
He walked on in silence for a moment
1T is the moth and the candle Will
Jams. 1 am dazzled. and suppose I shall
SINCE my wings"
All that evening he devoted himself to
Kitty. could see that she was impressed
| 1t was evident that before he had re-
strained himself, and now his debonnair
| woolng came as a revelation. In corner
| OIL tue room, WneTe the Sfla0eQ lamps
threw a shadow, Sir George, idly turning
over an album, watched the pair with pas
| sionata eyes.
| We were rather musical party, and the
evening passed pleasantly. Sir George
| only sang once. l think his voice was the
most perfect tenor l ever heard II had
| the passion of an actor, and the timber,
power and culture of a musician. He sang
| Forever and Forever" which is hackney
| ed enough now, but was then sufficiently
| fresh for us to admire its passionate aban-
| don. When he came to the line.
Blessing or curse, Whichever it be-
| He looked up, and there was a fury in his
! full black eyes, as they fell on Kitty and
Bfidson, sitting together by the window,
| which made me feel uncomfortable.
| Kitty sang once or twice, bright spark
ling, coquettish little songs. and Bridson
| busted himself turning over the leaves of
| the music for her; but l could not get rid
of the uncomfortable memory of Sir
Georges look, and found myself furtivey
watching him.
The morrow was a hunting day, and the
meet some seven miles distant, so we
| broke up early. have never been much
| good at early hours, and 1 always stipu-
| lated on smoking in my bed room; so
when l had bid my host and hostess good
night, kicked off my shoes, poked my fire
| into a blaze, and in my dressing gown
| drawn huge armchair up to its cheerful
warmth, l carefully selected one of my
| Havanas, and fell into blissful contempla-
| ton.
might have been sitting some FIVE
| minutes, when l heard soft knock and
Bridson walked unceremoniousy into my
| room.
That you, Bridson?' I asked
Yes" he answered shortly. He came
over to the fire, and putting his elbow on
| the mantelpiece, looked down at me. He
was still in evening dress, and there was
a peculiar smile about his lips that made
| me suspicious.
"Camelfias are pretty flowers" / said.
| He was wearing a red camellia in his
coat. 1t wasn't there when he entered
| the drawing room.
Yes, there's something attractive about
| them" he answered.
80 she gave you that, in spite of you
| being only an aetor?'
Yes" he replied straightly. How did
| you guess?'
My dear boy. when you become a fool
| and fall in love it does not necessitate
blindness on my part"
HDioRenpsI"