Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1898-01-27

DELILAF1.
BY HANNA KRYSTOFF.

60 THIS was her wedding journey!
y And here she sat alone at ten
O'Clock in the evening in the dreary
hotel parlor, whose bare walls and shah
by furniture had become so detestable.
She might have gone with him. But
DO, she would never enter that hall
again! She had sworn it.
Yet she knew her husbands whole
repertoire by heart, knew the precise
bar in his serenade when he would close
his eyes, the passage in his scherzo
when he would toss back his hair SO
gracefully. How studied and unnatural
it all seemed. She fancied she could
see him now, bowling with a faint smile,
as though oppressed by the applause
which Numbered around him.
On, and how wildly the audiences here
arplauded, especially the women! Now
they were pressing forward to the
Stage to shake hands with him. They
would wait for him at the exit of the
hall to thank him for the great pleas
ure he had afforded them, and throng
around him to the very door of the car
riage. $50 .e.s..'
1t was so yesterday, and the Cay be-
fore, and every day. Mime. Andre want
Cd to cry, especially when she thought
of her adventure yesterday, when a
crowd of feminine worshipers sep
arated her from her husband. and he.
evidently desiring. to escape from en-
thusiasm which had become annoying,
IN the belief that hisyoung wife sat be-
side him, had driven off without her.
There she had stood, and was forced to
hear these women. raEe:'' about the
gifted man, how; handsome he was,
the enthralling power OF, his glance,
and, above all, his superb hair.
Yes. his undeniably magnificent. locks
seemed to please these enthusiasts more
than anything else, more even than his
skill as an artist.
And the notes he received! She had
just read one; Of course the writer
begged for lock of his hair, and he
would probably give it to her.
The paper fell from her trembling
hands. Her slender fingers clenched
convulsively, as with compressed lips
she sank back into her chair. Oh, their
Batteries and cajo'ery would make him
a recreant, recreant to her and to his
art? Richard was still loyal, he still
loved her. But, like every artist, he
was vain. Perhaps he was more SO than
many others because he had more rea-
son to be; yes, OF course he had, far
more reason.
She began mentally to enumcrate his
attractions. The stern expression of
her delicate features softened, tender
light stole into her brown eyes. Then,
rising hurriedly. she paced up and down
the room several times, and her pretty
face assumed very residue expression.
Surely, he would come soon, her
Richard, her beloved husband. How
had she lived SO long without bin? 1t
had grown very late. She slipped on an
elegant maize silk teagown, drew the
curling locks around her shoulders.
Then she turned down the lamp, leaned
back in the armchair and shut her eyes,
:as if asleep, and waited for him. r.:
She soon heard his step, the door of
the room was thrown open; but on the
threshold the tall figure paused; the
door was cautiously closed, and Andre
moved forward on tiptoe. ..
Richard, is it your asked voice
from the armchair: ~ fE.:-
"Ah, sweet heart, are you still awake !?
That is very kind in you" He kissed
her. = 1T has been such an evening,
Ely such an EVENING"" r}e@ ~. s'.'
Removing his long cloak, he turned
up the light. The clear glow fell upon
his handsome figure. The regularity
OF the pale features were animated by
the sparkle of the dark eyes, now gilt
tering with joyous excitement. But the
most remarkable thing about his ap-
gearance was the long, black hair, which
fell in soft, waving locks nearly to the
shoulders, giving striking character
to the mans whole person.
He took his seat at his young wife's
side.
'.Ah, if you would only come with me
again, Elly!" he said as he lighted a
cigarette. 'The enthusiasm, the APP
plause, the flowers! You know l do not
get any undue value on such things, but