Life — September 21, 1899 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

226 Our Fresh-Air Fund. Previously acknowledged.......... Prom Louise Spotford and Gardner Vorter, Arlington, Mass... C.NE Grenell Island Sunday Schoo! vm. Lockwood... 8.,Jr., Elizabeth, Suxan, Jack ent Stranger in New Yor P.D.C Cake Wal In Memory of M. 8. From 4 Feller who tip to the Faru biuself. Gladys Cash . Saved by nd Edith Re, In Memory of Maryaret..... $4,150 96. “LIFE: Those French Generals. T= officers who compose the “General Staff” talk copiously of “honor,” yet the average burglar and sneak thief would blush at their methods, Individually they are a daz- zling combination uf malice, garrulity and ignorance, We understand now why the French army in the Prussian war was. never anywhere, A personal acquaintance with Generals Roget, Mercier, Bois- deffro, Billot, and a dozen others, ex- plains a world of unexplainable things+ All that is necessary for a thorough comprehension of how an army of rave mon were persistently defeated, almost beforo reaching the fleld of battle, is to follow theso vetcrans through the Dreyfuscase, Unbounded vanity, prejudice and ignorance can produce surprising results, Tough Bird: WHO ARE YOU LOOKING AT? AN ANGLO-AMERICAN ALLIANCE. I MET her at dinner two days after I landed in New York; then again a day or so later at some house in the country, And before I knew it, my stay, originally meant to be of the shortest, lengthened into a fortnight, and my idea of big game-in the Rockies began to grow vividly less, for the simple reason that ‘Lord Gerald Vane had been potted at last,” as old Cecil Graham would have said. My position had been neatly changed—the hunter had been bagged himself. Of course she had no intimation of my feei- ings. I had neither written to the governor to get his con- sent, nor visited her father for his. The letter to my father was soon in the forcign post, though, and all that remained was the personal interview. I looked for him at his club for a week, and then impatience bade me scek at his offices. Most extraordinary, how even the smartest Americans have offices somewhere or other just like ordinary city men at home; and it docsn’t seem to make any difference, either; they're a deuccd good sort. Trench managed to turn me out from my hotel by eleven, and I got on board that atrocious tram on stilts, and was hurtled away to what New Yorkers call ‘‘ downtown,” and in no time I was searching through a mountainous labyrinth on Broadway for Mr. Stephen Dent, barrister, or something of that sort, and at last found him. It was like interviewing a Cabinet Minister, though, the trouble it took to get the audience. I was passed from clerk to clerk, and it was only after the closest scrutiny that at last I was ushered into the old gentleman's pri- vate room. * How are you, Vane?” he said, rising and greeting me cor- dially, ‘What the devil are you doing about, this time of day?” My card was still in his hand, and I could see he ‘was surprised to sce me, and puzzled. “Something important,” answered I, taking the chair he pushed towards me. “Tmportant, ch,” he replied.“ Well, that fits the hour.” “Meaning that you're busy. Well, Isha'n't detain you long ” “Not a bit of it. I'm delighted to see you, and I've got time to bura.” “T won't ask you to consume much of it,” I went on, “though I don’t like to take you by storm in this unceremo- nious manner. I've looked for you at the club several days, and as you didn’t turn up I've hunted you up.” “*Good!" he said, with just a trifle of mystification in his voice, at which I didn’t wonder, And then, without further preamble, I plunged: ; “Thave come, Mr. Dent, to propose for the hand of your daughter, Miss Mabel.” Ithought the old chap would have fallen off his chair at first, as he gasped : ‘* To propose for Mabel ?” “Yes,” answered I, and went on. ‘ It may seem basty to you—it is hasty, I have only known your daughter a month, but I know my own mind thoroughly, and I Jove her.” I could feel my checks tingle as I said it, for no living person had heard the words before. For weeks—ever since that first night, that glorious night when I first sat next her at dioner—the words had been buzzing to be released, but I had guarded them well. “Of course,” I continued, before his amazement would allow him words, ‘‘you know very little about me. That I am the only son of the Earl of Ashford you probably do know, If not, the British Ambassador at Washington will vouch for me.” “My dear Vane.” he interrupted, deprecatingly, finding voice at last, and with a twinkle in his eye. “* What is more important,” I wenton, feeling myself on par- ticularly firm ground, ‘the entailed estate is in admirable condition, and yields between cighteen and twenty-five thou- sard poundsa year.” : I wanted this shrewd old American to know that I wasn't comicbooks.com |