The true Democrat. [volume] (Bayou Sara [La.]) 1892-1928, 1898-04-09

mony Of one girl to make me believe
her either cold or ungrateful."
These reflections passed through his
mind as he was politely accepting
Miss Dallas's invitation to accompany
her to Mrs. Whitworth Walkingham's
musical tea, the next day.
1T will be bore," he said to him
self; "but Mrs. Whitworth Walking
ham is a genius, and there will be sure
to be good music there"
There was good music there, and
also delicious tea, in the tiniest cups,
each painted with separate wild
flower or bunch of grasses; cake, ices
and white grapes following the bar
carolas and rondolettas-and all went
merry as q marriage bell, until, in
turning to place a chair nearer the
window for Miss Dallas, Mr.. Billiards.
unfortunate elbow knocked one of the
priceless cups off the carved shelf of
the Japanese cabinet and broke it into
three pieces.
"Mrs. Whitworth Wallkingham will
commit suicide!' cried Medora, clasp
ing her hands with simulated terror.
81 swear you to eternal secrecy"
said Mr.. Ballard, laughing, as he
wrapped the pieces in his pocket
handkerchief and disposed them safe
ly in his pocket. IF there is store
in New York, Brooklyn or Jersey City
where this precious toy can be matched,
it shall not be left unsearched.
For every one, Mr.. Ballard includ-
Cd, knew that Mrs. Whitworth Walk
ingham was almost q monomaniac on
the subject of her china; and he was
really more deeply chagrined than he
appeared to be.
''You can't match it," said Medora
Dallas.
And she proved to be right.
In his despair, Hugh Ballard went
to old Mrs. Megarreau, who was OK
actly like eyerybody's fairy godmoth-
er.
"What am I to do?" be said, blank
ly.
"Do?" said Mrs. Megarreau, nod
ding the diamond butterflies on her
cap. "Why 60 to the china painting
and decorating rooms, of course, in
Hammersley Square. Take your sam
pie, and they'll duplicate it for you In
twenty-four hours. Say that Mrs.
Megarreau sent you.
Mr.. Ballard devoutly thanked tho
old lady, and obeyed without loss of
time.
1t was huge, airy room, with the
windows all glori6el with winter sun
shine, and soft steam heat modifying
the rigor Of the February air, where
half dozen young women were work
ing OF large table. Mrs. Baker, the
superintendent, who sat at her desk,
took the pieces Of Mrs. Whitworth
Walkingham's doomed cup and looked
earnestly at them, with her head on
one side.
"We have that shape in our wares,"
said she; "and I am quite sure that
we can reproduce the design-blue
iris-buds and marsh-grasses. Miss
Raymond's designs are some of them
even more exquisite than this. Rosa
bel, my dear, come here"
And Rosebel Raymond, pale and
pretty as ever, came forward in her
brown linen painting dress, with her
lovely chestnut-brown hair pushed
back from her face. Mrs. Baker was
holding out the bits of fractured china,
whereon were painted the blue iris
buds and dropping grasses, but Rosa
bel never looked at them.
"Mr. Ballard" she cried, her face
frightening with delight which she
was too unsophisticated to repress,
"what brought you to this placer"
"Miss Raymond" he exclaimed,
"what are you doing here?"
Earning my own living" said Rosa
bel, with quiet dignity.
'Does Miss Dallas -Medora, I mean
know where you are?"
"She ought to know" said Rosabel,
"for it was she who recommended me
to come here. For the Dallases, I
think. were getting tired Of me-" she
added, with sigh. 'But I ought to
be very much obliged to her, for have
acquired most welcome independ-
once, and the work here is exceedingly
congenial to my tastes. Is that the
pattern you wished copied, Mrs. Baker?"
she asked, taking a piece of china.
ooh, what an exquisite group of buds!
yet I am bold enough to think I can
initiate it successfully"
eff you can replace that cup" said
Mr.. Ballard, dramatically, II am your
slave for life!"
II think I can promise to replace it
without any such condition." said
Rosabel, laughing.
And Mrs. Whitworth Walkingham
never knew that her iris-bud cup was
broken until Hugh Ballard brought
back its exact counterpart.
"YOu must have soma snel) ont of