Abbeville progress. (Abbeville, Vermilion Parish, La.) 1913-1944, 1913-03-01

embroideries. and perhaps more com
forting than all these, good books.
The proper tale of how the afore-
said iridescent goddess jostled for II
scarce may be said that she led him
into a romance lacking neither COM
edy nor tragedy, now begins with a
trifing bit Of retrosp@ctIon. One Of
those women who were not good and
who looked into the clear pool Of the
boys mind saw the harmless longing
there. and made note. hoping 20 find
profit by her knowledge when the per
tinent day arrived. She was woman
so pleasing. so handsome, so adrOit,
that many a man, older and wiser
than George, found her mesh too
strong for him. Her plan matured.
suddenly and brilliantly, as projects
Of men and women Of her class and
callber without variation do.
Late one December afternoon Ito
be precise, 1902, George sat on the
tea-veranda of the Hotel Semiramis
in Cairo. A book lay idly upon his
knees It was one Of those yarns
in which something was happening
every other minute. AS adventures
90, George had never had a real one
in all his twenty-eight years, and he
believed that fate had treated him
rather shabbily. He didn't quite ap-
preciate her reserve. No matter how
late he wandered through the mysteTi
Gus bazaars, either here in Egypt or
over yonder in India, nothing ever be
fell more exciting than an argument
with a Carriage-driver He never car
ried small-arms, for he would not
have known how to use them. The
only deadly things in his hands We're
bass-rods and tennis-racquets. No.
nothing ever happened to him; yet
he never met a man in a slSps smoke
room who hadn't run the gamut Of
thrilling experiences. AS George
wasn't liar himself, he believed all
he saw and most Of what he heard.
Well. here he was, eight-and-twenty,
a pocket full Of money. a heart full
Of life, and as hopeless an outlook, so
| far as romance and adventure were
| concerned, as an old maid in a New
England village.
George, you old fool, what's the
use?" he thought. What's the use
of desire that never goes in a
straight line, but always round and
round in a circle?"
He thrust aside his grievance and
! IN
der of the Egyptian sunset; the Nile
| feluccas, riding upon perfect refec-
tons; the date-palms, black and mo-
! tionless against the translucent blue
Of the sky; the amethystine prisms of
| the Pyramids, and the deepening gold
| of the deserts brim. He loved the
! Orient, always so new, always so
strange, yet ever so old and familiar
A carriage stopped in front. and his
gaze naturally shifted. There is cease.
less attraction in specializing about
newcomers in a hotel. what they are
what they do, where they come from
and where they are going. A fine
elderly man Of fifty got out In the
square set of his shoulders, the flow
ing white mustache and imperial
there was a suggestion of militarism
He was Immediately followed by q
young woman of twenty, certainly not
over that age. George sighed visit
fully. He envied those polo-players
and gentleman-riders and bridge-ex
perts who were stopping at the hotel
1t wouldn't be an hour after dinner
before some one of them found out who
she was and spoke to her in that easy
style which he concluded must be &
gift rather than an accomplishment
You mustn't suppose for minute thai
George wasn't well-born and well-bred
simply because his name was Jones
Many a Fitz-Hugh Maurice or Hugh
Fitz-Maurice might have been But
no matter. He knew instinctively
then. what elegance was when he saw
it, and this girl was elegant, in dress
in movement. He rather liked th'
pallor OF her skin. which limited tina
she wasn't one of those athletic girl'
who bounced in and out of the din
ing-room, talking loudly and smokin,
cigarettes and playing bridge for six
penny points. She was tall. He wa
sure that her eyes were on the leve
with his own. The grey veil tina
dropped from the rim of her simpl
Leghorn hat to the tip Of her nose oh
scured her eyes, so he could not know
that they were large and brown ant
indefinably sad. They spoke not o
WEAKNESS of travel, but Of a wear