Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1898-07-07
DELILAH.
FROM THE GERMAN.
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And here she sat alone at 10 o'clock
in the evening in the dreary hotel
parlor, whose bare walls and shabby
furniture had become so detestable.
She might have gone with him. But,
no, 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
head so gracefully. How studied and
unnatural it all seemed. She fancied
she could see him now, bowling with
faint smile, as though oppressed by
the applause which Numbered around
him.
Oh, and how wildly the audiences
here applauded, especially the wo-
men! Now they were pressing for
ward 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 pleasure he had afford
ed them, and throng around him to
the very door of his carriage.
1t was so yesterday, and the day
before and every day. Nine. Andre
wanted to cry, especially when she
thought of her adventure yesterday,
when a crowd of feminine Worship
pers separated her from her husband,
and he. evidently desiring to escape
from enthusiasm which had become
annoying, in the belief that his young
wife sat beside him. had driven off
without her. There she had stood,
and was forced to hear these women
rave about the gifted man." how
handsome he Was, the enthralling
power of his glance, and above all,
his superb hair.
Yes, his undenlably magnificent
locks seemed to please these enthusi-
asts more than anything-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 nngers clenched
convulslvely, and with compressed
lips she sank back into her chair. Oh,
their batteries and cajolery 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 be-
cause he had more reason to be- YES.
of course he had, far more reason.
She began mentally to enumerate
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 resolute expression.
Surely, he would come soon, her
Richard, her beloved husband. How
had she lived so long without him?
1t had grown very late. She slipped
on an elegant maize silk tea gown,
drew the pins from her hair and let
1t fall in 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.
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 opened, and
Andre moved forward ON tiptoe.
Richard, is it you?" asked voice
from the armchair.
"Ah, sweetheart, are you still
awake? That is very kind of YOU
He kissed her. 1T has been such an
evening. Ely, such an evening""
Removing his long cloak he turned
up the light. The clear glow fell upon
his handsome figure. The regularity
of the pale features was animated by
the sparkle of the dark eyes, now
glittering with joyous excitement.
But the most remarkable thing about
his appearance was the long, black
hair. which fell in soft, waving locks
nearly TO the shoulders, giving a
striking character to the mans whole |
person.
He took his seat at his young wife's
side.
All, If you would only come with
me again. Elly!" he said. as he light
ed cigarette. "The enthusiasm, The |
applause, the flowers! You know |
do not set any undue value on such
things, but It ought to make you very |
proud TO see your husband so mb.,n |
But it doesn't" she answered,
with a somewhat forced laugh. ITO
tell the truth, il makes me feel as il |
| were quite too Insignificant. Be-
sides, dearest. | love in you less the
artist than the husband of my foolish
heart, and you are more that at home
than in the concert hall"
you are right, here | am a man,
here ] may be, and, therefore, YOU
He gave her . hasty ki.s, then