Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1899-04-08

was stronger In her beauty tban4 strore
man in his strength, that her little hand
might GRASP and crush q life. And this
was the London worldl They were men
whose names were household words In the
0rdnd monde who crowded around the
dcbutdnte, and counted IL an honor to hold
her fan, her bouquet, her gloves, or carry
a message for her; they were women uni
versally admired, who envied her her tri.
umph, and resolved to copy her gown.
Az, sweet was the knowledge Of power.
sweet the homage; and when all was over,
and too excited still for WEAKNESS, the girl
went up to her dressing-room, her aune
came TO her, and embraced her with actual
tears OF delight.
Dear childy' she cried, "was ever great
er success than yours! You have surpassed
even my expectations Your name will be
In everyoae's mouth, Valerie. The crown
Of beauty is yours
No word OF warning: oaly pleasurei In the
triumph; and more incense added to tho
clouds that had fl latei around the golden
head tonight! And when Mrs. Langley
kissed her niece's soft cheek and told her
to lie down and rest, she babe her dream
pleasant dreams Of the brilliant future be-
fore her.
And left alone, Valerie turned to the long
cheval-glass, and stood before II, stretching
her white arms above her head.
EYES," she whispered, Il am beautifulv'
She pushed her hand through the rich
curls, golden in the light, dark where tho
shadow fell, and laughed a low, soft laugh.
"Why should beauty give me powers but
II does-it does!'
She paused, and her eyes grew wistful;
a mist swept before them, blurring the
dazzling image IN the mirror. She turned
away slowly, and threw herself on couch,
hiding her face in the cushion.
Queen lily and rose in ONE was ring
ing through her heart, music that banished
the girlish thought OF triumph and brought,
back the noble nature to its purer self.
Il don't want power" she said, pressing
her hands on her burning forehead, II only
want to see him again-more and more
every day! What shall do' am always,
always thinking"
A gentle tap at the door. Valerie start
ed. and sprany TO her feet.
Come in," she said, and Fanchon APP
peared.
"Oh! Fanchon!" said the girl, you need
not have staid up; ! could have K on
these things myself"
"Mademoiselle il too kind. | am used to
It," replied the Frenchwoman; and then,
while she removed robes and jewels, she
poured out ne admiration OF mademoiselle.
and her pleasure in mademoiselle's sue
cess. But Valerie gave noheed; the stream
Of fiattery wearied her; and she was glad
when Fanchon's duties were over, and she
wa once more alone.
And at length she slept-a restless, ftful
sleep, troubled by confused dreams, In
which, however, last night had no part:
but it was the ball at bennington, and
though Max Beauregard was there, he
would not speak to her, or look at her,
turning from her in anger.
What have | done' What have ldoneP'
she cried. in anguish, in her dream; but
he seemed to vanish away, and would not
answer; and the dreamer woke herself with
sobbing. to find il broad daylight.
1t was only a dream, then, after all! ahl
thank Heaven-only u dream. Her hand
stole to the little embroidered bag that lay
on her breast, as If what it held were q
talisman to save her from future evil;
and with n long low sigh she whispered to
herself "Oolv.a I",n
Concluded Next Weekly H.,