Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1897-12-23

WIG iL IuO S1ll lHeLOA lCIC, Jou II
lose him! You mark my words!"
Marcia had dutifully promised to do
her best, ana she was now having
what she herself called "a good hard
time Of it," Lord Algy was in one of
his most provokingly vacillating
moods-moreover, he had headache
and felt bilious. Therefore he would
not dance-he would not play tennis
he did not understand archery-he
was disinclined to sit in romantic
strawberries or summer-houses, as he
had nervous dread of spiders-so he
rambled aimlesly about the grounds
with his hands in his pockets, and
perforce Marcia was compelled to
effect an opposite Irritation would
have on his mind, so she coquetted
desperately with a young country
squire, whose breed of pigs was con-
sidered the finest in England-but
baskerville did not seem to mind it
In the least. Nay, he looked rather
relieved than otherwise. and Marcia,
seeing this, grew more resolute than
ever.
Il guess I'll pay him out for this!"
she thought as she watched him feebly
drinking soda-water for his headache.
He's a man that wants ruling, and
ruled he shall bel"
And Mrs. Rush-M arvelle and Mrs.
Won (lIlrTn nhcaruaA hop
with maternal interest, while the cum
ning-faced white-headed Van Clupp
conversed condescendingly with Mr..
Rush Marvelle, as being nonentity
Of a man whom he could safely
: patronize.
AS the glory Of the sunset paled, and
the delicate, warm hues of the sum-
mer twilight softened the landscape,
the merriment Of the brilliant assem-
bly, seemed to increase. AS soon as
it was dark, the grounds were to be
Illuminated by electricity, and dane
ing was to be continued indoors-the
fine old picture-g gallery being the
place chosen for the purpose. No
iullE blStl COluu ttuu w JHe ulLlOSI
entertainment of the guests had been
forgotten, and Thelma, the fair mis-
tress of these pleasant revels, noting
with quiet eyes the evident enjoy
ment of all present, felt very happy
and tranquil. She had eXerted her
self good deal, and was now little
tired. Her eyes had dreamy, far-off
lcok, and she found her thoughts
wandering, now and then, away to
the A1tenfjord-sh almost fancied
she could hear the sigh Of the pines
and the dash Of the waves mingling in
unison as they used to do when she
sat at the old farmhouse window and
spun, little dreaming then how her
life would change-how all those ia
miliar things would be swept away
as though they had never been. She
reused herself from this momentary
reverie, and glancing down at the re-
cumbent gentleman at her feet,
touched his shoulder lightly with the
edge of her fan.
"Why do you not dance, you very
lazy Mr.. Lorimer?" she asked, with
smile.
He turned up his fair, half-boyish
face to hers ana laughed
Dance! l! Good gracious Such
an exertion would kill me, Lady Err
rington-don't you know that? | am
of a Sultan-like disposition-I
shouldn't mind having slaves to dance
for me If they did it well-but should
look on from the throne wherein sat
cross-legged,- and smoke my pipe in
peace"
always the s0me!' she said lightly.
Are you never serious?
His eyes darkened suddenly. Some
times Awfully SO! And in that con-
dition | become a burden to myself
and my friends"
Never be serious!" interposed
Beau Loyelace, ut really isn't worth
while! Cultivate the humor of
Socrates, and reduce everything by
means OF close argument to its small
est standpoint, and the world, life, and
time are no more than Il pinch of
snuff for some great Titanic god to
please his giant nose withal!"
Your fame isn't worth much then.
Beau, If we're to go by that line of
argument" remarked Errington, with
Il laugh.
Fame! BY Jove! You don't sup
pose I'm such an arrant donkey as to
set any store by fame!" cried Love-
lace, II broad smile lighting up his
face and eyes. why, because few
people read my books and are amused
thereby,-an because the Press pats
me graciousy on the back, and says
metaphorioally, Well done little 'un!'
or words to that effect, am | to go
Growing about the world as If were
the only literary chanticleer? My dear
friend, have you read 'Esdras? You
will FIND there that certain king of
| Persia wrote to one 'Rathumus, a
story-writer.' No doubt he was famous
in his day, but,to travesty Hamlet,
II