The Savannah morning news., 1903-04-05

poor fellow to Meredith. How do you
do, Cousin Tom? I've saved the next
dance for you" Then she distributed
words here and there and everywhere,
amongst the circle about her--pretty
Marquise with a vengeance! mo, Mr..
Swift, l shall not make a card; you
must come at the beginning of dance
if you want one. l cannot promise
the next; it is quite impossible. No,
/ did not go as far north as Mackinac.
How do you do, Mr.. Burlingame?-
Yes, quite an age;-no, not the next,
l am afraid; nor the neXt;-Im not
keeping a card. Good evening, Mr..
Baird. No, not the next. Oh, thank
you, Miss Hinsdale!-No, Mr.. Swift, it
is quite impossible-Tm so sorry. Cous-
in, the music is commencing; this is
ours"
As she took Merediths arm, she
handed her flowers to a gentleman be-
side her with the slightest glance at
the recipient; and the gesture and lock
made her partner heartsick for his
friend; it was so easy and natural and
with the air of habit, and had so much
of the manner with which a woman
hands things to a man who partakes
of her inner condolences. Tom knew
that Harkless OWNED the gesture, as
well as the identity of the gentleman.
They started away, but she paused, and
turned to the latter. "Mr. Macauley,
you must meet Mr.. HAIRLESS. We leave
him in your care, and you must see
that he meets all the pretty girls-you
are used to being nice to distinguished
strangers, you know
Tom put his arm about her, and
whirled away, and Harkless felt as if
a soft hand had dealt him blow after
blow in the face. Was this lady of
little battling forms and small cold
graces the girl who had been his kind
comrade the girl who stood with him
by the blue tent-pole, who had run to
him to save his life, she who walked
at his side along the pike? The con-
trast of these homely scenes made him
laugh grimly. Was this she who had
wept before him-was 1t she who had
| been redolent of kindness so fragrant
ly natural and true-was it she who
said she loved all these people very
much, in spite of having known them
| only two days?"
| He cried out upon himself for n fool.
| What was he in her eyes but a man
who had needed to be told that she did
not love him! Had he not better-and
more courteously to her-have avoided
| the meeting which was necessarily an
| embarrassment to her? But, no; he
must rush like a Mohawk till he found
| her and forced her to rebuff him, to
| we'll llti hlilQIGSS III llAllG AlGllilGios "
remind him that he put himself in the
| character of a rejected importunate.
| She had punished him enough, perhaps
| a little too cruelty enough, in leaving
him with the man to whom she hand
| ed bouquets as a matter of course And
| this man was one whose success had
long been a trumpet at his ear, blaring
loudly Of his own failure in the same
! career.
1t had been several years since he
first .heard of the young editor of the
| Rouen Journal" and nowadays al
most everybody knew about Brainard
| Macauley. Outwardly, he was of no
unusual type; an American of affairs;
slight, easy, yet alert; relaxed yet
sharp; neat, regular, strong; a quizzi-
cal eye, a business chin, an ambitious
head, with soft straight hair outlining
a square brow; and through he was
"of a type" he was not commonplace
and one knew at once that he would
make a rafting fight to arrive where
he was going.
1t appeared that he had heard OF
Harkless, as well as the Carlow editor
of him. They had a few moments of
shop, and he talked to Harkless as a
brother craftsman, without the offense
of graciousness. and spoke of his pleas
ure in the meeting and of his relief at
Harkless recovery, for, aside from the
mere human feeling, the party needed
him in Carlow-even if he did not al
ways prove himself quite a vehement
partisan" Macauley laughed. But
I'm not doing my duty he said. pres
emily; 81 was to present you to the
pretty ones only, l believe. VIII you
| designate your preferred fashion of
beauty We serve all styles"
Thank you" the other answered,
hurriedly. 81 met number last night
quite a number, indeed" He had
seen them only in dim lights, however,
and except Miss Hinsdale and the Wild
over. had not the faintest recognition
of any of them, and he cut them all,
except those two, one after the other.
before the evening was over; and this
was a strange thing for politician to
do; but he did 1t with such an innocent
eye that they remembered the dark
porch and forgave him.
shall we watch the dancing them"
asked Macauley. HAIRLESS was al
ready watching part of it.
IF you will. l have not seen this
sort for more than five years"
"It is always a treat, l think, and a
constant proof that the older school of
English caricaturists didn't overdraw."
Yes; one realizes they couldn't"
Harkless remembered Tom Mere
dith's fine accomplishment of dancing;
he had been the most famous dancer
of college days, and it was in the
dancer that John best saw his old
friend again as he had known him, the
light lad of the active toe. Other cou-
pies flickered about the one Jonn
watched, couples that plodded, couples
that .bobbed. couples that galloped. cou-
pies that slid, but the cousins alone
passed across the glistening renections
as lightly as October leaves blown over
the forest door. In the midst of peo-