Life — October 5, 1905 — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

-LIFE: monsicur2” said she, For one moment she looked up, and then the long lashes drooped over the dear dark eyes. I evaded the question. “Where is your brother?” 1 asked. “He isn’t here to give you away. Dorothea looked around wonderingly. “Why, that’s very strange,” she murmured. “I hadn't ne i is never late: From where we stood in the vestibule the hum of many voices sounded like some huge droning chorus. We heard the patter of the ushers’ feet, as they escorted belated guests who were entering through the transept door. “Andy,” our am nist, famed throughout his “world” for his skill at the keyboard, was rendering with spirit selection which I readily recognized as a triumph of his “Hasty Pudding” days. Everything was all right so far, but cach minute increased the danger; soon questioning nees and raised eyebrows would herald a social inquisi- n My pulses beat heavily. I must save the situation, turned to go. Dorothea’s gloved hand rested on my arm; 1 stayed. She turned to her bridesmaids ; | in a group, and they were whispering excited “Girls, I want to speak to Jack a moment. Do you mind?” “Of course not, dear,” they chorused, and moving back a le left us together. “T hardly know how to say it, Jack,” Dorothea whis- pered. I placed my hand firmly over her little white glove “Don't try,” was all I could manage to say. The leather doors swung open, and Billy burst through. “See here, Kenyon, we've done our best, but we can't hold that crowd much longer; the thing's most twenty minutes late now. Mrs, Vreelands has just asked Boothly if she mistook the date, and Andy has played all he knows except the ‘Star Spangled Banner I faced Billy, mad clear thr He is certainly the ince of good-natured bunglers. “Tell Andy to play ‘Fair Harvard,’ I cried, “ and get out of here.’’ Billy retired fuming. Again I turned to Dorothea with my heart in my throat What could she be thinking of? Not of the Count appar- ently; there was a dreamy look in her eyes that 1 could swear no thought of him had ever brought there. My heart was bounding within me like some wild thing; my passionate gaze seemed to rouse her from a trance. Eve ine of her lithe young body straightened with a quic e; she caught my hand in both hers. “LT love you, Jack,” she breathed. The church spun around me; the hum of the impatient people, now become a roar, sounded like the surf of the far-distant sea; the perplexed faces of the bridal party merged into an hoate mass, while out of it all there stood one radiant figure, one glorious, blushing face, whose down- cast eyes refused to meet my own. Somehow I pulled myself together. “Dearest.” I spoke very quietly, “since that is so, this farce must not go on.” es,” she assented. “I wish you would stop it, dear.” Jack,” whispered Boothly, coming up on the run, d and nervous, his collar reduced to pulp, “some- (Continued on second page following.) Ready October Tenth s Little Lamb By TOM MASSON “Mary's Little Lamb,” as it might be written by some of our most popular authors. This little booklet is issued in response to a general demand for one of the best things that has ever appeared in Lire. Send Ten Cents for a copy to LIFE PUBLISHING COMPANY 17 West Thirty-first Street New York comicbooks.com