The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1910-02-02
attainable through any other means!'

| IIduS ILLS llOl HiI1St In oAISA S1S
m%acaroons come a vanilla ice and a
chocolate cream and more maca-
| roonsi And then-of SO generous a
| temper is Augustus this afternoon
then they adjourn from the shop to
the refreshing shade of the awning
| outside, and Belinda is told to call
for whatever cooling drink she
chooses. while Mr.. Jones (Who holds
| the firmest English belief as to al
| cohol and a thermometer at a hun
dred and ten in the shade going we'll
together) orders himself-oh, in
what execrable French-a brandy
and settler, and prepares to smoke a
cigar at her side.
Mr.. Jones smokes his cigar; Belin-
da sips her iced orangeade, Spanish
fashion, through a %barquilo, beside
him; and SO a drowsy hour glides
away. Then the sun slips westward
behind the topping old scarlet
| rooted, many-storied houses that
form the seaboard of st. Jean de Luz,
and comparative GOODNESS begins to
make itself felt in the streets.
And 1 must be off," says Belinda,
jumping up as the clocks of the town
strike five. I'VE are all in for a
match of paume as soon as the sun
is off the upper Place"
"'We!' and who are 'we?' asks
Mr.. Jones, with a tender smile. The
brandy and settler has softened him
but, unfortunately, tender smiles
lose half their effect when they are
associated with mosquito bites!
ooh, the usual party-Jack Aston
and Tom and me against the two
Washingtons and Maurice la Ferte.
Whom will you back? You must not
judge by what you saw last night.
Jack Aston and I can beat the lot
when we play our best"
81 should like to bet that you will
let Mr.. Jack Aston and his friends
play their match without you" And
now Augustus rises, To- the mos
quito-bitten face is affectionately, hor-
ribly near Belinda's. II should like
to think that you care just enough
for me, Miss O'Shea, to give I'll these
fellows up for once, if l ask you"
His tone is more earnest than Be-
linda has ever heard it yet, and she
wavers, or appears to waver
you will promise me to play no
more at that COMPOUNDED game, either
this evening or any other EVENING""
whispers Augustus with growing en-
phasis.
Another moment and Belinda will
certainly have committed herself
heaven knows to what compromising
renunciations! But even as the
words rise to her lips an unexpected
ally against MI. Jones and on the
side of paume-playing, bolero-danc-
ing and all the other sweet, unlawful
pears on the scene.
costa, why, Costa, old boy, where
have you been all day? Down. sir,
down. When will you learn that Mr..
Jones does not value your atten-
tions?"
Costa is a grand looking old Span
ish hound, not altogether Of purest
breed, perhaps, but a noble brute
despite the blot upon his e%scutcheon,
possessing much of his nations grave
dignity of demeanor and a face brim-
full of fine dog intellect and feeling.
TRY not to be frightened, Mr..
JONES' says Belinda, glancing ma
~liciously at the expression of her adj
mirer's face. Perhaps he won't bite
if you keep very quiet. Dogs know
so we'll when people are afraid Of
them. Have you come for m~acaroons,
my old Costa, Ell? You have, have
you? Mr.. Jones, Costa says he has
come for m~a"aroons." 1t may be OBJ
| served that Belinda has not a grain
of false pride on the score of begging
aims for her friends. Costa has
, come for macaroons and I have not
a single sou left in the world"
She stoops down and with z arm
bent fondly around the old dogs
neck. looks up, with the prettiest be-
, seeching air imaginable, at Angus
tus Jones. But Jones buttons up his
pockets.
"Macaroons for Costa" repeats
! Belinda, stretching out to him a lit
tie suppliant sun-burned palm. mot
like them? You should see whether
he likes them! Try the experiment.
Why, when. Maria Jose was here, we
gave him two francs worth all at
once, and he ate them up before you
could say Jack Robinson"
] did he, indeed" says Augustus,
looking disguised, whether at the al
fusion to 4 rival or at the ~vulgarity
of Belinda, who shall say? Then
the only thing l can remark is, I am
sorry that Mr.. Maria Jose had not
better sense than to waste his money
on such absurdity."
Quitting her hold on Costa, Belin-
da starts to her feet, and stands up
, right and determined before Angus
tus; her small child's face flaming red
as any pomesrante flower. Mr..
Jones'" she e~yclailns, eff I asked you
to give Costa two francs worth Of
m~acaroons at this moment, 90 you
mean 10 tell me- sou would not do
it,"
; Il should prefer giving the money