The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1897-06-02
CHAPTER 1I.-Continued.

impression on Fernshaw's iEamorata.
] was anxious to see whether she was
really the coquette she appeared to be.
May have dance, Miss Upton" l
asked, approaching her.
81 have none left" she said, smiling
", but l am very tired. If we could
find retired corner, might escape the
next number.
l felt flattered, and, offering my arm,
bore her away in triumph. AS we
passed Fernshaw l saw that his face
wore look of despair. Foolish boy!
He seemed to forget that emotion ID
considered by society eminently vulgar.
We pushed our way through the
crowd, and at length found quiet lit
tie nook where we could converse un-
observed and uninterrupted.
You are fond Of society,"" asked, as
threw wrap around her white shoul-
ders.
@Idon't know" she replied, musingly.
Il don't think / am. But l don't want
to be neglected"
Then you 60 through all this kind OF
thing from pride, not affection:
Yes; suppose so. But what can
woman do? She has TO have some ex-
citement Perhaps it doesn't pay, in
the end; but then. what does pay! So
ciety and life are much the same. Att
We have passed through them we nnd
there was nothing in them. But this
fact does not render suicide or secluslon
any the more attractive.
I gazed at her in surprise. Youth,
beauty, health, admiration were here,
but she spoke and looked as though she
were weary from wisdom and wise from
weariness.
Your argument is sound, but you are
too young to consider society the only
alternative to a nunnery or prussic acid.
How about the quiet joys Of domestic
life?"
She laughed outright.
The joys of domestic life! Your
question proves that you are bachelor.
What does marriage offer to New
York girl? She becomes the vanquished
rival OF a club. the lonely watcher for
husbands late return, either splteiul
gossip or a moping invalid. But, like
death, it is fate which must be borne.
Yes, I suppose that will be the outcome
Of it all.
She looked at me musingly. as though
In search of sympathy. She was so
confidential, so trustful, that it seemed
to me had known her for years. AS
gazed into her large dark eyes, regret
ted that as q member Of the committee
i had not been ordered to take charge
of her. could readily understand how
Fernshaw had lost his heart to her, and
even began to suspect that Barnes,
the cynical and worldly, would find it
difficult to resist her subtle charm.
Il should judge, then," l remarked,
that your marriage, when it occurs,
will be simply ceremonious conformity
to the customs Of society. You do not
seem inclined to fall in love-"
"Love!> Love! What is lover" she
asked.
An ancient question:" I replied.
How will this do for definition? Love
for being Of the opposite sex is that
feeling of affection which demands ex-
preston at all hazards"
Well said," she exclaimed. You
have placed the passion in philosophic
light Love must be delightful. /
should like to fall in love"
She glanced at me wistfully. There
was a far-away look in her eyes and
there really was no reason why should
turn red. But did. l was an old hand
at this kind of thing, and knew by in
stinct that Barnes was in her mind, but
for a moment longed to take her in my
arms and tell her to love her fathers
committeeman with all the ardor Of her
youthful heart.
Il wonder what Mr.. Fernshaw will
think" she exclaimed q moment later,
looking at her dance-card. I followed
her gaze and saw that I had stolen my
young brothers turn. My conscience
troubled me, and hurriedly offered her
my arm. We returned to the ball
room.
The cotillon is about to begin" re-
marked Barnes, as he joined us. I'VE
had better find place"
Miss Upton took his arm and whis-
pered to me:
Il will give you my first favor"
moved away gloomily. 1 did not
intend to dance the german, and I was
= annoyed to think that the words OF this
girl had led me to regret that l was not
ls handsome, as Barnes or as young as
Fernshaw.
As entere& the courtroom I found
The latter talkin& 4 to Mr.. Upton.
DO you dance the cotillion?" l asked
Ss!Se""%; 1No, he answered. ssess'y.
Wont you JOIN ImeStna a cigar at the
club, them" I asked Aaaaing Mr.. Up
ton in my invifsaon, Ehsy both ae-
hurrying up 5th avenne.
Who Is this Mr.. BErnes Swho paid
Agnes so much attentun tSSnight:"
lsked Mr.. Upton, as we seateN our
selves at table in the $cfub dining
room and ordered bottfe of ciqtn-
pagne.
"a broker quite we'll known on tnsa,
street. He has made a great deal Of
money in the last few years, Ian-
swered.
"Nice-looking fellow. Seems to be q,
gentleman, remarked the old man.
perhaps, spoke up Fernshaw, -but'
be dresses too we'll. Don't you think
BOP"
Mr.. Upton looked at the speaker in
surprise. He seemed to suspect that
Fernshaw was sarcastic. l began to
lear that l had done an imprudent
thing in bringing the young man and
Mr. Upton together.
well, 1 don't know" answered the
latter, slowly. He can afford to, per-
haps. He has made his pile.
This was homo thrust, and Fern
shaw slipped his wine nervously. He
had not made his pile, and he red
aened at the thought. His father, 1t is
hue, was q rich man, but Fernshaw
pw4eG nothing himself, and was con-
scous that in this age Of the world
poverty is crime.
Yes, like the looks Of Barnes, con-