The Tupelo journal., 1911-08-11
CHAPTER III.
THE Language Of the Fan.

saThe Language Of the Fan.
MI. Grimm was chatting idly with
tSenorita Rodriguez, daughter of the
iministera from Venezuela. the while
he permitted his lstiess eyes to wan
der aimlessly about the spacious ball.
room of the German embassy, ablaze
whit f~estooned lights, and brilliant
with a multi-colored chaos Of uni
forms. Cleaning pearl-white, translu,
centxn the mass, were the bare
shoulders Of woman; and from far off
came the p~laintive whine of an or
chestra, a pulsing sense rather than a
living sound, of music, pointed here
flute. A zephyr. perfumed with the
cleaff, fresh odor of liiacs, stirred the
0draperies of the archway which led
unto the conservatory and rusued the
bending branches of palms and ferns.
For a scant instant Mr.. Grimm's
eyes rested on a young woman who
sat a dozen feet away, talking, in play
full animation, with an underSecretary
of the British embassy young wom-
an severely gowned in some glittering
stuffwhFh fell away sheerly from her
splenlid bare shoulders. She glanced
up, - If hn acknowledgment of his
1oof, andHher eyes met his. Frank,
ibluesgrasjey they were, stirred to
their depths now by amusement. She
smiled at Senorita Rodriguez, in token
of recognition.
Aren't they wonderful" asked
lSenorita sRodriguez with the quick,
lbubbling enthusiasm of her ace.
"What?" asked Mr.. Grimm.
"Her. eyes," was the reply. Every
pers1hlkas one dominant feature
with Miss Thorne it is her eyes"
T Miss IhQrne%% III. GGrrtimgtmn repeated:
"Harert you met herr" the senorita
went on Miss Isabel Thofne? she
only arrived a few days ago-the night
of the state ball. She's my guest at
the Legation. When an opportunity
comes shall present you to her"
She ran on, about other things, with
only al occasional remark from Mr..
Grimm, who was thoughtfully nursing.
his knee. Somewhere through the
chatter and ~effervescent gaiety, min
Cling with the sound of the pulsing
music, he had a singular impression of
a rhythmical beat, an indistinct tattoo,
noticeable, perhaps, only because OF
its monotony. After a moment he
shot a quick glance at Miss Thorne
and understood; it was the tapping Of
an exquisitely wrought ivory fan
against one of her tapering, gloved
fingers. She was talking and smiling.
"Dot-dash-dot! Dot%dash-dot, Dot
dash-dot." said the fan.
Mr.. Grimm twisted around in his
seat and RECALLED his listIess eyes with
a long look into the senorita's pretty
face. Behind the careless ease of re
poss he was mechanically isolatE1g the
faint clatter of the fan. 3.
"Dot-dash-dot. Dot-dash-dot! Dot
dash-dot!"
did any one ever accused you of
staring, Mr.. Grimm" demanded the
senorita, banteringly. -
For an instant Mr.. Grimm continu d
to stare, and then his ~listless eyes
swept the ballroom, passing einvolun-
tarily at the scarlet splendor of the
minister from Turkey. tt%
Il beg your pardon" he a~pologized,
contritely. There was a pause. The
minister from Turkey looks like a barn
on FIRE, doesn't he!" Il
Senorita Rodriguez laughed, and Mr..
Grimm glanced idly toward Miss
Thorne. She was still talking, her
face alive with interest; and the fan
was still tapping rhythmically, stead-
lily, now on the arm of her chair.
"Dot-dssh-dot! Dot-dash-dot! Dot,
dash-dot! Dot-dash-dot!"
Pretty women who don't want to
be stared at should 90 with tseir faces
swathed," Mr.. Grimm suggested. indo-
lently. "Haroun Ell Raschid there
would agree with me on that point. l
have no doubt. What 4 shock he
would get II he should happen up at
Atlantic City for . weekend lnaAu-
sgust!"
-Dotdash-dot! DOT dash,dot! Dot
dash-dot!"
Mr.. Grimm read 1t with perfect un.
,~derstanding; it was "F-F-F' In the
Morse code, the call of one operator
to another. Was It accident? Mr..
Grimm wondered, and wondering, he
went on talking lazily:
Curious. isn't it. the smaller the ma
ttion the more color 1t crowds into the
uniforms of its diplomats? The Brit
lish ambassador, you will observe. is
clothed sanely and modestly, as BELTS
the representative Of . great nation: