The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1902-08-29
AFlDDLEROF
FORTUNE 3 3
BY HARRIET
PEARL SKINNER.

the ballroom. She was accompanied
by her aunt, Mrs Parker Durham, and
as the two paused for an instant in
the doorway, watching the myriads Of
dancers go floating by, the girl pre-
scented picture fit for the brush of
Titan.
She was tall and finely proportional.
Her red-brown hair was piled in
glorious masses, her brown eyes were
flashing with girlish excitement, her
cheeks were delicately flushed, and
her whole being was vibrant thpleas-
ure and anticipation. She was dressed
in gown of gauzy white, which left
bare her exquisite arms and throat,
and her only ornament was single
white rose fastened carelessly in her
auburn hair.
Instantly that she was discovered
mods and smiles greeted her from all
parts of the room, and it was evident
that she was easily the favorite of the
younger set at the lake. Her dances
had all been promised beforehand so
her card was tossed aside while she
graciously accorded to each of the
young gallants the waltz or deux-
temp he had previously begged.
Never had Dorothy appeared more
joyous and certainly never more beau
tiful than tonight, but this thought
continually thrust itself upon her at
tention
"Just one week Of fun, and then
comes Saturday, and-Paul Churchill
But ! have this one week of grace, and
1 shall certainly make the best of the
time"
For Dorothy's father had, upon a re-
cent eastern trip, met with his old
school chum, Henry Churchill, the now
famous New York millionaire, and
they, in the delight Of their reunion,
had eoncocted plan whereby they
might cement their lifelong friend
ship ultimately combine their vast
fortunes, and insure the future well
fare of their children. A marriage be-
tween Henry Churchill's only son, Paul,
and John Dunham's only daughter,
Dorothy, was arranged, pending only
the consent of the young people, which
the dutiful children would scarcely
fail to accord. The gentlemen had de-
cided that the twain should meet at
Delayan lake, and Dorothy, who was
motherless, had arrived to-day under
the care of her fathers sister.
'Of course | shan't be compelled to
marry him." thought Dorothy, "but if
can possibly tolerate him. shall feel
that | must do it for papa's sake
Tonight, however, she was deter
mined to forget her impending ordeal
and to enjoy every minute of the
time.
Suddenly, as with Howard Moore
she waltzed slowly past the musicians
platform, her eyes met those of the
violinist. For an instant she was SPELL
bound as she met that earnest, com
pelling gaze. The color left her cheek,
and for the first time in her life she
lost the rhythm of the music.
"We are out of time, Miss Durham
my fault entirely beg your par
dom"
Her partners words recalled Dor
othy to herself, and with quick flush
she dropped her eyes and whirled away.
BOLD, yes, very-and presumptuous,
perhaps a little-but rude, not bit!
His look wasn't even one exactly of
admiration, but just of a kind of inter
est Pshaw, what do l care what this
1iddler's glances meant He certainly
plays divinely, though" she medi-
tated.
All about the room Dorothy heard
comments upon the musician and his
art.
Hes new-came to-day. Tremen-
dous tone-so much better than the
other one!"
Next morning Dorothy ran across
the green sward toward the hotel ten
mis- grounds, where three other pretty
girls in short skirts awaited her.
NHurry, Dorothy" called one.
Il had four letters to read" she
npologized breathlessly as she took
her place. Happening to glance mad
yertently toward the adjoining net,
where two men We're playing singles,
Dorothy recognized the new yiolnist
in the court diagonally opposite her
own. That he was about 80 years old,
tall, dark, athletic, and vigorous she
comprehended in flash.
Their eyes met, but his glance was as
cool as her own, and he continued his
game with an ease and dexterity which
he felt rather than saw. She turned
abruptly away with sensation Of
positive annoyance.
How did he happen to choose this
particular court? What difference
does it make to me any way? Just IA
common fiddle player He has the
pride Of a duke written all over him.
Dorothy Durham, you are dunce!"
She played a wretched game this
morning, to the surprise of her COM
rades, and once sent wild ball
straight into the enemy's camp. The
violinist caught it easily in his left
hand and tossed it lightly back to her.
Dorothy bowed haughtily and scram-
bled in the grass to recover the ball,
her checks as red as red, red rose,
Presently She threw down her racket
despite the approximations of her
mates. and reiterated to the hotel, con
fusedly murmuring something about
"auntie and a drive, you know"
Thereafter it seemed to Dorothy
that at every turn of her roseate patti
she came in contact with this hand