Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1906-08-18
A DAUGHTER OF THE AZTECS.

lnvelged into responding to Mrs. Alter
tons bit of pasteboard in person.
You always know quite we'll what to
eNpect-a room so dark you stumble over
things, and a confused and irritating
cackle OF many women talking at once,
and the necessity of swallowing lot of
stuff that is a reproach to your lunch and
an insult to your Forthcoming dinner.
l must say Mrs. Allerton does things
better than most, and it is really a pre-
cious privilege to inspect her cups, but as
l opened the door a confused murmur of
voices met me, and in a moment more |
found myself in the thick of the hubbub,
making my bow over Mrs. Gray's fat
hand.
oh! DOCTOR she said, moving aside
her draperies and waving me into a seat
beside her, don't you know, you are Just
i the one person in tie world l am dying
to see"
professionally, MADAME l asked. as
she tapped me on the hand with ponder
Gus pIayfulness.
NO, no. you naughty thing; was just
telling these ladies about Philip Hartness
marrying a cowboy, or something of that
kind, out in Texas"
| But that you said it." | murmured
| family. Il wouldn't have believed it pos
sible. Of course, we all know that the
! Texas law is etfete and weak kneed eX-
| cept in the matter of horse dealing;
still"
ooh! you horrid creature Mrs Gray
/ cried again, tapping me with her fan.
'Now, do be good boy and tell us Just
how it happened, for l know you were
there and assisted at the orgy, or rite,
or whatever they call such functions. Is
she pretty, for | suppose that, after all,
in this case the cowboy is a she?"
l looked hopelessly around, saw no
means of escape, and then L thought of
my friend and his young wife, and re-
membered that these women held her so
cial destiny in their hand. Mrs. Gray
herself was not unkindly, and in the
faces turned toward me was one in whose
deep, dark eyes | read understanding and
sympathy.
Dear madam l said, your requests
are commands. To begin with. Dolores
it is a sad little name, isn't tits some
thing more than pretty. Her mother was
Mexican. You needn't shrug your
shoulders. She comes of one of the old
Aztec families, and l assure you they
scorn our best blood as something entire
ly too much of yesterday to be seriously
considered, and her people raised a pretty
row when Dolores mother fell in love
with an Englishman and persisted in
marrying him. Poor thing she didn't
live long enough to fulfill their prophe-
sizes and regret it, but she bequeathed
Dolores the finest eyes you ever saw
deep, dark, lustrous, with tawny flash
in them that makes you remember them
when you have forgotten how perfect is
the oval of her face and how blood red
the scarlet line of her mouth. She was
Il sensation in Paris"
"What, Paris ?" in incredulous chorus
from my audience.
Yes l answered quietly. "She was
educated in Paris. You see. her father
owns the cattle on a thousand hills. or
whatever is the modern equivalent to
that, and lie worships Dolores. She
never had what you would call good
breeding. She lived alone with her ia
Their at their hacienda until one time she
chanced to 90 with him to the city to sell
the cattle. Some women looked curious
y at her and made sighting remark on
her clothes, or appearance, that struck
fire to the proud little heart.
= i am an Affect she said. fiercclv. to
her father that night. 1 will not be
shamed by los Americanos. Give me the
education and clothes that befit my birth.
Paris is the heart of the world. / will
90 there. And her father, who had never
thWarted her in her life. made the Jour
ney with her and left her in a famous
pension with a letter of credit that must
have staggered the proprietress.
1t was while Dolores was in Paris
that l came to know her father / got
interested in a scheme for buying Il large
ranch on the Rio Grande, so went over to
America, and fell in love with the life.
and spent two or three years, mostly at
their hacienda. 1t was the merest coin
cidence that Philip Hardness came over
to visit me the summer that Dolores re-
turned. She was already there when he
arrived, and pleasant as life had always
been, it took on a new charm from her
presence,
"She would ride with us, all the strong,
Quick, joyous young life flaming in her
cheeks, or at night she would sing, her
grand, pure, rich voice ringing out on the
clear air. and we would sit in the dark
fancying how such dramatic fire and pas
sion could sway and hold multitude,
and saying Niarchese was right TO pre-
dict for her a brilliant career-if only she
would stretch forth her hands AID pluck
the laurel.
Am I enthusiastic? Wei. the fault
is rare enough in these days to be easily
pardoned. and YOU will better understand
how Philip fell in love. I saw it from
the first and warned him. Put he
stayed-the witchery of her beauty was
upon him.
"At first 1 don't think he was alto
gether happy in it. suppose it is inev-
table that we cannot escape from the
standard Of comparison TO which we are
reared. You see, if one has always