The Aberdeen Democrat. (Aberdeen, South Dakota) 1???-1909, 1904-03-25

uSPtao. (hu wa lulo lGtlluS d"dhSHb
by the Inflated Romeo, the subtle art O.
the actor, or theman himself, who stoot
behind it all? Sweeter homage the art
list had never known.
So the brief season waxed and waned
and hurried to it's close; spring bios.
somed about the little city by the sea
but, caught in the current of an over
mastering desire, he heeds nothing, anC
lives for the hour, for the night, wheI
like a star in the heavens she rises be-
fore his longing sight.
He no longer taxes himself with the
folly, the madness, the indulgence of q
hopeless passion, a romance that must
ever remain unfinished. He deems heI
a divinity worthy his worship, a beauti-
full dream that has been revealed to him
for a ~fleeting moment in his meteoriC
career. He can love as Ruy Bias loved.
with tenderness, eX~altation, and a deli
cate homage that asks no return, and
dies happy so that it be in her
But one night a change came Ger the
spirit of his dream; during the second
act a stranger, a man of fine command
ing presence, enters the box, and seats
himself beside her, with an air Of calm
possessiveness which at once attracts
his attention: the girl turns smilingly
and gives her hand. allows herself to be
diverted from the play for a moment.
The blood burns hot in his veins, q
wave of jealousy surges over him; he
is not SO DISTINGUISHED after all, his ex-
allied sentiment receives a sudden check.
He watches him covertly all the even
ing, the afectionate familiarity of his
manner, his eXasperating air of owner
ship, or so it seems to his excited senses.
Who is this man, by what right does he
usurp her attention when it should be
centered on the play: he resents his
presence with all a lovers inconsequent
passion. yet what claim has he upon her
thoughts, her sentiments, her favor?
Once he meets the eye of the stranger,
fiercely, haughtily, questioningly, and
a puzzled look fits over the face of the
man; then he turns to his companion
and l%aughingly whispers in her ear. The
actor, stung by a passion he cannot con-
troll, gives it free rein, and for the time
he is scarce master of himself; but to
the listening audience there is no token
that a play within a play, a real be-
meath a mimic passion, are being enact
ed on the lighted stage; he outdoes him.
self, so they say.
He has not the smallest right to more
than her passing interest, such enthusi-
asm as all may show the artist, he tells
himself with %unsparing scorn; yet this
he knows, though another may aspire
to her hand, win her heart, for many
weeks she has obeyed his slightest bid
ding-he has known her as zone other
could hope to do.
She has laughed at his witty %sallies,
wept at his mimic woes, thrilled at his
romance and daring adventure; re-
vealed to him her maiden heart in all
it's warmth, purity and Inconsistencies.
To her it has not been a mere play, as
to so many others; a passing pleasure,
lightly won, easily forgotten; it has
been the awakening of her whole ma
ture.
He may enter her life, claim her
affections; like a bird of passage he
came, and as one he must 60, it is his
fate; but they have lived these last
thrilling memorable weeks together,
and it is his hand, not another's, that
has knocked in%sistently at the portals
of her heart. She is his by the sacred
right of discovery, and opportunity
given he could win and hold her against
the world.
So the last night came, and the COM
pany took its farewell of the o famil-
SCI audience IL q stirring performance
of Camille" that hackneyed play which
has wrung the hearts of sympathetic
womankind since its initial night.
Surrounded by a bevy of youthful
companions Stirling watches her for the
last time, as he believes; and wonders
if a pang of regret turks beneath her
pleasure for the enchanted nights that
are now no more; the nameless romance
drawing to its close.
None could tell how it happened, it
seemed but the work of a moment; the
fiery Armand in a burst of passion had
flung his gold at the feet of the fainting
Camille, when there came a smell of
smoke, a watt of flame from behind the
scenes, a terrible cry from the audi
ence, and then-panic.
In vain Armand sought to reassure
them by his w calm courage, held out
his hands in mute appeal, for the dan
ger was less from fire than flight; but
for a few breathless moments terror
reigned supreme.
He turned instinctively to the stage
box, from which the girls had fed at
the first alarm, like frightened par
tridges; she stood alone and erect, but
pale and trembling, as one who awaits
certain doom. He sprang to her side
holding out his arms. "Come"-he said
simply; and catching up the slender bur-
den bore her through devious ways and
back passages, out into the open air.
Strange to relate, the accident proved
less disastrous than at first feared, and
the fire promptly quelled, restored calm
to what at first breath had seemed a
hopeless panic: but the season was at
NHLH ~ ~ - - WR . Mr a . - sEEAt ~ 1872 HHA . vt.