Pine Bluff daily graphic., 1899-03-16

forage for wraps"
 Leaving Sylvia in the safe sec1usion of the arbor he vanished, returning speedily clad in light topcoat and crush hat, and bearing a heyy cloak of vel vet and furs.
 .Thatr' breathed Sylvia, in a horri- fled whisper, when he showed his spoil, sWhy, you've brought grandmamma's sable mantle"
 "0h, that's all right, so long as it's big enough replird her fellow-slnner gith mans easy lndiAereDce but utility.
 And as to the encompassing ca, pacfty of the matter there could be no odubt. Swallowed up therein, all that was visible of Sylvia was pair of wonderful blue eyes and 6uR os golden hair at one end and 70 tiny white satin slippers at the ST.
 To Sylvia the hanson was a C1ariot sent direct from fairyland for her con- yeyance to some enchanted world. The gayety and glitter of the London night delighted and amazed her. At Ptccadilly Circus Sylvia was entranc- ed, in Leicester Square she was in ecstasies, and when, having reached the snug seclusion of a curtained box, she could gaze across a valley of dim, smoke-Wreathed figures, which tho moving marvel of form and color de- fined as ballet, she acted and moved as though in q dream-world.
 What they witnessed need not be de- tailed. Is it not written in the daily papers?' Suffice it to tell that Sylvia remained oblivious to all Bruntons hints as to the lapse of time until he murmured that the hour neared H.
 Safely in the hanson speeding home ward, Sylvia returned to earth again, and sighed at that she felt like Cindert ella in having to leave the ball at it's height. And Brunton tentatively sug- gested that there had been no prince at her ball; Whereupon Sylvia ayowed hastily that of course he was tho prince-tnen faltered and blushed. After that it must be confessed that the trees fringing Regents Park wit messed some callow love making.
 Yes, Sylvia was sorry, very, very sorry he was going, and perhaps when he returned in three years he would have forgotten her? And Brunton was equally convinced of his own faithful, ness, but feared the strain of time and absence on hers.
 Brunton thought he would like their next meeting to take place, as this ona had, in a garden; and Sylvia remem. bered that certain green door in the high wall encireling her gfandmother's grounds opened on a quiet side road. It was quite near; they could drive round that way and she would point 1t out.
 Thereafter the stars witnessed sol emn compact that, that day three years, at the same hour, Sylvia would unlock the green door to give Brunton entrance.
 They were very much in earnest. Two real tears glistened in Sy1yias eyes as she spoke of the years that the green door must remain closed. And Brunton's voice got husky, and he had difficulty in rendering his farewells as many as he would have wished.
 Re-entering Mrs. Derriek's garden cautiously, the culprits had scarce gained the safe vantage of the shrub bery before encountering an emissary in search of Sylvia. Lady Martingale was going, had been going for quite ten minutes, and both her cloak and her granddaughter wee to seek!
 
 Athwart the little green door the moonlight glinted softly, and Brunton, standing in the near shadow of an ileX, would willingly have dropped the com- ing hour out of his life.
 Since his return to England a few days before, the memory of this ap- preaching assignation had consistently recurred to him. AS a man of honor, he knew he dare not shirk it. And yet how painful to be forced to see Sylvia, to look into those innocent, trustful eyes-for of her eonstancy he had no doubt-and confess how he had chang ed, and to tell boldly that their meet ing had proved but an incident, of no moment in the ordering of his life.
 He must undeceiye her as tenderly as possible, speak of Eleanor regretfully. at least not let Sylvia guess how chs tirely happy their union was, or that she, Slyvia, had long ceased to be aught but a pretty, sentimental re- membranee to him.
 Even as he schooled himself q distant clock struck the hour, and with the first faint chime came the steady sound of an opening lock. She was there!
 Gently turning the handle, he passed through thfe green door and entered Lady Martingale's garden, Beside the great stone basin of the old fountain stood Sylvia tho YnonuIioht SDarkIin1