The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1910-03-29
il ~
/ VACABOND HEROINE /
~ By ANNIE EDWARDS =:
BY ANNIE EDWARDS.

who feels, yes, and looks noble, every
inch of him.
"Then let the Basque mobiles dance
boleros by themselves" says Roger
II am of jealous disposition, child
1t does not please me that your pref
ty dances and your pretty self should
be at the mercy of every stranger
| who may happen to pass along pub.
lie roadway
Up leaps the blood into her cheeks
| The reproof, If reproof it be, savors
| of a tenderness to which she has
been so long unused, tenderness
that sinks with such dangerous sweet
ness on her heart.
| do I dance prettily?" Her eyes
for the first time fall beneath his; she
trif1es, little abashed, with the POM
agrante bud in her waist-belt. u
made you come here because-oh, be-
cause I wanted to shock you, as
shock Mr.. Jones and Rose. But do /
really dance prettily-better than the
peasant girls?"
80 much better, Belinda, that ]
| should like to bid you never dance
another bolero or cachuca while you
live"
She stands a moment irresolute,
then turns from him without word.
Vanity, childish triumph, and burn
ing, perfectly new sense of womanly
shame are holding the oldest conflict
imaginable in Belinda's heart, and
keep her dumb.
IF had only the right to exact a
promise of you," goes on Roger, pos
sessing himself, as he speaks, of her
hand, and pressing 1t with a kindly
warmth.
But you have not the right; no,
not as much as Augustus Jones hasl"
she exclaims, snatching her hand
away abruptly and bursting into a
peal of laughter. Augustus might
have bought me, perhaps, with a
| francs worth of macaroons; but you
you! Reserve your jealousy, Cap
tain Temple, for the time when Rose
takes to dancing boleros with the
peasants!"
Then, pirouett1ng the step Of the
| bolero as she goes, she disappears
among the olives, nor joins Captain
Temple again until he is within a
dozen PAGES of the Casino.
Mrs. O'Shea, star-gazing on the
terrace with Augustus, receives them
with honeyed smiles. Admiration
acts upon Rosie's moral faculties like
wine; and she has really been good
deal admired this evening-or a good
deal stared at, which comes to very
much the same thing.
"Oh, you naughty, naughty chill
dren!" She nestles her hand at once
under Rogers arm, nor takes it away
again. 1--WE have been looking for
you everywhere. What nice waltz
you had! was so glad to see Cap
tain Temple dancing with you, Be-
linda! But / am afraid you found
those sandal-things dreadfully incon-
venient to dance in, dear?"
The italics, the plentiful notes of
admiration, convey venom, trebly dis
titled, to Belinda's sensitive ear.
Roger hears only the soft yelled voice,
feels only the plump pressure Of his
beloved ones hand upon his arm;
and he 'blesses her unaware"
This is really not half bad sort
of view" says Augustus, pulling at
his wristbands with the self-con-
seriousness of a man who wants to be
unconcerned, and addressing the At
lantic. ION the right we have the
ruins Of st. Barbe, still bearing marks
of the English guns of thirteen, on
the left the coast of Spain, while close
at hand"
Rises the gloomy church-tower of
st. Jean de Luz" cries Belinda, imi-
tating the poor wretch's pedantic
company-voice to admiration. THAT
sacred, edifice in which Louis XIV.
was formerly betrothed to Maria The
resa, Infanta of Spain, in the year of
our Lord sixteen hundred and sixty.
How long will it be, Mr.. Jones, be-
fore your great book of travels is
published? 'Twould be pity. upon
my word, that so much valuable re-
search should be wasted"
"Belinda-Belinda, my dear, how
can you'll" says Rose admonishingly.
Mr.. Jones, why do you let her? I
am sure 1t is all interesting. Poor
dear Louis XIV. and Marie Antoi-
nette-we read the Peninsular War
straight through at Miss Ingram S.
But Belinda is such quiz! Really
it seems like something in a novel
doesn't it, Roger--to be SO near
SPAIN"
This is literally Roses CONVERSE
tional style reduced to photography;
style that one may call the absolute,
perfected vacuity of human speech :
but yet that, lisped by a pretty wo-
man, now making play with her eyes,
now suffering giggling eclipses be-
hind her fan, might draw forth some
slight admiration.
Rose, my dear" bending over the
widow and whispering-yet not so
| low but that Belindas ear can catch
every lover-like syllable-''is it not
late for you to be out, after all the
fatigues of your journey? Let me
take you back to the hotel, dearest.
You look pale"
"Oh, but Belinda, 7 says Rose gem
erously, and making feint of quit.
ting her lovers arm. Don't anybody
think of me. See Belinda home
4 first
| Thanks, very much, Rose" cries
| the girl "As Re1inda has haan 600.