The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1900-02-15
THE LAST ACT

yet, Fifille,' said they. What does
this farewell mean? Is there TO be
succession of them? Or are you, by
possibility, about to be married? You,
who have been SO obdurate? You who
have refused five millions in your time,
speaking by the aggregate? Come,
Fifille, it is impossible for woman to
retire when she is maleing more money
with her feet than the eleverest make
with their heads! Maybe you have de-
veloped a conscience-eh? Is it that
you are about to enter a convent? Are
you going to be penitentiai-in black
tights? Tut! Fifille, it is childish of
you to be saying farewell without Civ
ing any reason for it'll" So went the
composite speech of many companions.
Fifille smiled gravely. Then she took
her tiny lace handkerchief, and mois-
tening bit of it, rubbed at the rouge
on her cheek. She held up the incar-
nadined muslin to the contemplation of
her guests.
81 shall never put any paint on my
face again as long as | live" said she.
"But the reason for it you would hard
ly understand. 1t is not remorse, for
l have nothing of which to repent, save
venal sins, of course. And those l have
confessed. 1t is not love, for l let that
go by long time ago. 1t is not age,
for, as you see, youth has not yet for
saken me-"
The diaphanous snowy petticoats
futtered like a humming birds wing,
and about the svelte body drifted a scarf
| light and wayward as morning cloud.
81, who am not suspected of philos-
ophy, leave the life / know for philo-
sophie reasons. / wish to observe for
myself how real people live-not mimic
people like ourselves. None of you has
ever discovered it, but as matter of
fact am not stupid. do not propose
to remain here till you pity me. am
not going to hear any of you saying:
Poor old Fifille!' when l get too stiff
in the joints for this"
She poised like butterfly on flower,
and it seemed as if she were about to
disappear through the beflowered cell
ing of the room.
"Brava! Brava! Exquisite! Encore"
But the famous dancer bowed some
what sadly, and. excusing herself, she
quilted the room for short time. When
she reentered she was clad in severe
brown travelling suit. A plain toque
covered her straight brown hair-her
| own hair. There was neither red nor
white upon her face which nature had
not placed there. In her hand was a
little travelling bag.
"Adieu, adieu!" she cried. She ran
from one to the other, shaking them
by the hand and kissing them. She
wept, too, and gave little reminders of
old times now to this one and now to
that. Before they could realize 1t she
was gone. They never any of them saw
her again. They never solved the mys-
terry of her disappearance. II was a
nine years wonder. II was thing to
talk about at matutinal suppers-those
weary. noisy meals that ended with the
dawn. But out Of the many guesses
hazarded no one guessed the truth
and 1t never occurred to anyone to be-
lieve what the danseuse had told them.
Up in Maine there Is a certain coast
town that looks down from bluffs upon
the sea and across sloping meadows to
q wide and wayward river. The fields
are old and have been worked too long.
The wharves are rich in old tales, but
the vessels that tie up at them now are
comparatively few. Everybody knows
everybody else, and the people have so
married and intermarried that when n
family party is given ii is difficult to
avoid inviting the whole village.
Into this community there came one
day woman whom nobody knew. In
spite of the modesty of her bearing and
the quietness of her attire she had OBJ
viously the manner of cities about her.
She bought cottage for herself and
furnished it with simplicity. The ladies
who called could find no fault with the
few pieces of china nor with the mod
Grafton of the decorations. Everything
was in good taste. Everything be-
| tokened q comfortable condition of the
purse. Nothing spoke of opulence or
extravaganza. At first the callers talked
of themselves-the town, the social life,
the old traditions, the historic spots.
They were frank and confidential.
Then they eXacted return. They en-
deavored to probe the mystery Of this
woman's life and to find why she had
come among them. They were pre-
pared for some concealment. 1t had
been agreed on all hands that the wom-
an was mystery and was likely to re-
main such. But they met with sur
prise. There was no concaalment. The
premiere danseuse tcid them her story
from beginning to end and made them
sympathize with 1t, too.
There was. indeed, covert envy in
the attitude OF some of these women
toward her. The easy manners, the
charming address. the inimitable grace
Of movement-they had never seen the
like, and they coveted the lady these
possessions. II would not be true to
say that they felt perfect confidence
in her. They felt q deep interest in
her; she fascinated everyone she met;
that had been her custom from time
immemorial 1t had, in fact, been her
profession. But the good ladies waited
with some apprehension for the time
when the dancer would give them dis
agreeable surprise. She was sure. they
felt. to outrage the conventions some
time. They were not prepared TO say
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