Life — February 16, 1899 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“Doesn't look it.” “Well, it is truo, nevertheless, and the governor sent me to help you out, fearing you would not get through before mid- night. Ho leaned forward, and turned over the 8 and bills tumbled carelessly to- gether in the Large, open compartment of the desk, He was rewarded by finding three notes. “This may be something.” He scanned tho envelopes critically, then shook his head, ‘All mailed to-day, and each in a different handwriting.” Ho opened the first, glancing rapidly through it. Sent her a ruby heart-pin and a bunch of violets; that sounds encouraging.” Then he opened the second. Wants to thank him for his exquisite violets and the chara ing ruby heart-pin. Same to both of them —there is sentiment for you.” Little Flame had been reading the last. He looked up dolefully. ds the pin back, but will keep the violets that she loves.” Chappio struck his small fst ou the arm of the chair aud burst into laughter that was bewilderingly , yet had something of the hum of a bowstring in it. Tho lazy beggar!” be eried. “He wouldn't even take the trouble to pick out different gifts forthem. No more sentiment than a hedgehog—not as much as a porcupine. ‘Thoy opened the drawers of the desk and all the cupboards, even a secret panel that Archibald, who had inherited the desk, knew nothing about; but Little Flame was for finding such nooks, Not another line, not a picture, not a lower, ribbon, nor tender memento of any sort could be dis- covered. Chappie was ebuckling still. “Doesn't keep a thing; that is the to do it, Ho is not going to worry him: with trifles and get the heartache some stumbling over forgotten things. “T don’t believe be bas a heart,” groaned Little Flame, “A pretty report this will make.” Chappie was surveying the room with an experienced eye. “What about those photographs 7” he asked, “Hus be any mori “ Nothing but race horses in bis sleeping- those you see here, all Can you make any- Let us seo what is here, —_ famous room, and linod up together, thing of that ? Chappie shook his head. thoy will talk a bit.” He jumped from tho arm of the cbair and fluttored over to the fire, Thoro wasa big easy-chair in front of it,and here he onsconced himself. The chair was of red only “Not unless = LEP E velvet; the firelight fell warmly upon itand enveloped Chappie in a rosy glow. Ho half shut his lids and looked up; botween the long lashes bis eyes gleamed like purple sapphires, Little Flame cropt closer, snuggled down on the hearth rug, and watched, Chappio still kept his eyes upon the ple- tures and hummed a little tune; it was an air from tho sound waves of a butterfly hovering over a rose, and his voice was like a harp struck softly. Tho pictures seemed to breathe under {ts spell, and Chappio looked innocently away from them into the fire. Tho eyes of the photographs were riveted upon him,as love will hold a woman's eyes. “Tshould put Archio Reed down as a cad,” he murmured to Little Flame, shad- “The new arrival perched himself on the arm of his chair." ing bis eyes a momont to wink at him. “That is a very sweeping term,” an- swered Little Flame, sitting up very straight, while curbing a desire to roll on the hearth rug. “It can mean almost any- thing unpleasant.” Tho profile picture of a woman in a big hat turned. She was not so pretty full face, and Chapple had noted out of a corner of his eye the struggle it bad been for her to make up her mind to turn, “You may call him a cad ff you like,” sho answored, her voico clear and carrying, “but he is one of the jolliest, sweetest tem- pered men in the world, ready for anything, and an all-round good fellow.” 127 “You think that, because he admires your profession—or rather, the profession, said Chappie, nudging Little Flame with his rose-leaf toes, “ He is awfully good to us.” A wide-eyed girl was talking. “It is all smooth enough sailing now, since I have tho right star in; but last year, when I was ill, ho would have married mo just to tako care of me, if T would have let him.” © gave a half pathetic laugh, “He has been so grateful to mo ever since for not letting him that it is a bit trying; but I knew he never really cared.” “T think it is not so much the stage that. he is fond of as music.” The speaker was tall and willowy, gowned in filmy black, with straight features, and dark masses of wavy hair caught with a crescent. “ Pooh!” said the profilo, posed sideways again, ‘Ho can’t turn a tune,” “That doesn’t constitute feeling for music,” the Diana-like one continued. “It isa passion with him, deeper than the mero desire to excel in it himself. I sco it when I play for him;” her eyes grow black and dreamy. ‘He seems to feel it in every nerve, perfectly happy, per- feetly content while he can liste: A fresh, clever-looking woman here broke in, “I should say he cared more for books than music,” she said. “He has chosen so many charming ones for me, and has talked to me about so many more. I feel quito afraid of him at times, he seems so learned.” “It is my opinion that he doesn’t honestly care a rap about either. This was from a smart-looking in a riding habit, and she struck her boot impatiently with a crop as she spoke. “Give him a fit horse and the dew on the ground of a fall morning, and he'd take a piano and a hedge of books on the other side for a chance to be off with us.” Sho raised her hand and gave a soft balloo, and the hound at her feet shivered in his sleep, “ He is selfish and cold-bearted, whatever his tastes,” said a quiet-looking girl besido her, “I would not trust him a moment nor believe one word bo might say, and I know what I am talking about.” Her voico was cold but well modulated, and as sho flnished she drew her thin lips a little tighter together and looked around. Sho caught the eye of the girl in the picturo like a painting, and the girl regarded her appealingly. The girl was in a ball gown, with roses in her hands, looking with clear eyes out upon the world that scemed a happy one to her. “Don’t—please don't say that!” Her Manner was sweet and winning as sho