The Marion daily mirror. (Marion, Ohio) 1892-1912, 1908-09-11
SpoILIEg 4 BACHELOR.

lou, aged sixty-five, and seven tiI1eR
IA millionaire Seven years later Bal
lou died and left widow without
children, but with sl0,o00,00O
Now commenced Angellca's real
life. She was old enough not to nsed
a ehaperon, yet young enough to en-
Joy the prominence given her by her
wealth, a beauty that was In its
prime and great sprightliness. She
at once became the favorite OF So
ciety and lived in some one Of her
several residences in town and couh-
try. Men focked to her In untold
numbers, but what is easily gained
is not valued. and she would have
none Of them. Several of her suffers
were men Of prominence who could
have advanced the Young widow in a
way not to be attained by wealth
alone, but the trouble was they we're
to be had for the asking. There was
no sport in o chase where a hundred
hunters were firing at her on sight.
Among the young men of her ac-
quaintance was Paul Debonair, whose
father had died and left his son sew
eral hundred thousand dollars. Paul
spent all the income, but resolutely
refrained from touching a cent OF his
principal Pleasure was his object.
He would never marry. In short,
he was determined to get the
most out of life in the way that
seemed most desirable to him--that
is, as a man of the world.
One evening he went to a bail. An.
gelica was there, surrounded by a
crowd of men elbowing one another
10 get near her II she moved from
one room to another. within a few
minutes every one of those men was
to be found in the room to which she
lad gone. II she went back, they
went back Paul Debonair looked at
this spectacle with disgust. He
danced in the same set with Angelica
but every time It became his part to
take her hand to swing he would
pretend to have made mistake and
swing some one else.
Great heavens, Paul" said one of
his friends, do you know whom you
are snubbing? That's the young
Widow Ballou, worth millions"
81 don't care If she is the Widow
| Croesus," said Paul in tone loud
enough to be heard by the widow her
self, and worth billions"
Paul Debonair had sounded the
death-knell to his independence. An
gclica sent one of her circle of at
tendants to bring him to her and in
| troduce him. He consented, but II his
object was to avoid rudeness he might
as well have declined. for his
brusqueness and Indifference were
| objectionable. Angelica had noticed
while he danced that terpsichore was
| one OF his idols. He abandoned him
self TO the motion and the music as
one in heavenly dream. Quick to
see a weak point, she resolved to at
tack him through this love- She
asked him to dance. He had the ef-
frontery to decline on the ground
that he did not know how to dance.
But it was not long after this that
Angelica gave a ball herself. She had
| given out through her friends that
she felt very much hurt at the treat
ment Debonair had given her, that
she had been surprised that any man
should treat an unprotected woman
so rudely, but that sne would give
' - gN ,r",.n...!. g 10 r1deem him
SELF. These remarks were intended
for Pauls ears, and when he recelv-
ed an invitation TO her ball he de-
Cided at least 10 accept II.
| There being no orchestra at hand
capable OF playing dance music as An
gelica wished it played, she import
ed one, and when Paul entered the
ballroom he heard yoluptuous sounds
that tingled in the tips of his toes.
He went directly 10 the hostess, who
smiled upon him and said:
IL have been saving my first dance
for you. Mr.. Debonair. | am hos
tess here. and my word is law. You
are commanded to dance with me-"
In another moment Debonair was
gliding over a waxed floor with a
dream of lovliness in his arms. The
soft strains, the beautiful face so
near his own, the liquid eyes fasten-
ed always upon his, wore an irresist-
ible incantation. Then, too, he was
dancing with one who was, like him
self, a born dancer. They passed
banks of flowers and momentarily
caught their perfume. They sailed
around water springing from a foun-
tain, and as the tiny drops fell they
sang song of love. But all Paul
Debonair saw was a beautiful face, a
swelling bosom, a pair OF dark eyes.
Paul Debonair realized that he was
being shared. Matrimony had been
a horror to him, and this only pos
sible outcome to the Widows witch
cry appalled, him. He left on the
next steamer for Europe. Angelica
followed him. One evening while he
was at ball at the American en-
bassy at Rome the orchestra struck
up the waltz TO which he had danced
with the Widow Ballou. He was
standing In dream OF that one dan