Beadle's Dime Library No. 42 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

The room was plainly furnished, but the little pictures hung here and there upon the walls, and the little ornaments upon the mantelpiece, lent an air of refinement to the hum- ble apartment. The girl was Coralie, the actress. Coralie York as she called herself in private life; the last new face on the metro- politun bourds. The girl was roused from her study by a lively rap at the door, and a pert voice, full of life and spirit, cried out: ‘May I come in? It’s only Katie!” And without waiting for permission, the door flew open, and a pretty black-eyed, black-haired girl of eighteen or twenty, dressed in a magnificent walking-dress, danced into ‘the apartment. Coralie laid down her book, and, with a sweet smile om her innocent face, advanced to meet her visitor. “Just like me; always disturbing you in your studies! What a regular nuisance I must be!” the new-comer ex- claimed. ‘‘ Why, Katie, how can you say such a thing?” Coralie said, in wonder. ‘‘Lord bless you! I’m capable of saying any thing,” re plied the other. ‘“ But, lay aside your hat and sit down, won’t you?” the actress asked. ‘‘T’'ve come on purpose to spend the whole afternoon with you,” responded the visitor, removing the dainty hat and flinging it, carelessly, upon the snow-white counterpane of the bed. The black-eyed little lady demands a brief notice at our hands. Katie Blake, a daughter of the Emerald Isle, was better (Known, however, to the world at large as Mademoiselle Heloise, the famous French danseuse, one of the leading lights of the Black Crook ballet—a lively, dashy girl, full of anima) spirits and overflowing with good-humor. ‘I’m so glad,” said Coralie, quickly; ‘I get very lonely sometimes.” ‘‘ Why, don’t your beau come to see you often?” cried Katie, in her impetuous way, and then suddenly stopped, in cenfusion. Coralie blushed to her temples, and the soft eyes were cast upon the ground. ‘‘ Well, there, I didn’t mean that. I’m real sorry. I’m always making such blunders,” Katie said, in despair. ‘‘ Why, I'm sure you haven’t said any thing wrong,” Cora- lie replied, slowly. ‘* But, you colored up just as red as fire.” ‘‘ Did I?” and the girl looked confused and helpless. ‘Yes, but you’re so different tome. Now] talk about my beaus with everybody.” ‘‘Have you more than one?” Coralie asked, in amaze- ment. ‘Why, bless your little heart, ’'ve got a dozen!” replied Kate, triumphantly. ‘‘I might have double that number if I liked, but it’s too much trouble to take,care of them.” ‘And do you like them all, equaily well?” “Oh, no!” cried the dancing girl, quickly; ‘“‘ there isn’t one of them that I like like Joe.” ‘‘Ah, Joe is the favored one, then?” * He's such a good fellow—and he’s so smart. Joe isa ‘newspsper man. He writes puffs about me; he says that I am an angel, that my dancing is as light as a rose-leaf float- ing on @ summer breeze, and a lot more just such pretty stuff. He's real sweet.” ** His writings you mean?” ‘* Both!” Katie responded, emphatically, ‘‘ but he don’t always write pretty. He writes about murders and prize- fights, and elections, and all such things.” The California Detective. 5 _—— —— “What paper is he attached to” ** All of ’em,” replied Kate, briskly; ‘‘ it don’t matter to him which one, as long as he gets a good price; as he said, it’s a most astonishing thing, the worse’ the newspaper, th¢ higher the price. And he goes and interviews people, too, and gets kicked down-stairs—” ‘““Why, how dreadful that must be!” interrupted Cora lie. ** Oh, he says that he don’t mind it now if the stairs ain’t too long; he’s got used to it. In fact, he says that he is disappointed if he doesn’t get kicked out, because it makes such a good finish to the article. But, what are you study ing, dear?” ** Juliet.” ‘‘Oh, that dreadful, love-sick thing. Why, they’re not going to play that, are they?” “*No; I am only studying it for my own amusement.” ‘‘ Well, I thought so, for Joe says that it’s no use playing Shakspeare nowadays—that he’s too slow for the present age—that they want Black Crooks, clog cGances and real fire; that the public understand that sort of shows.” “IT suppose he knows; but the language is beautiful,” Coralie said, enthusiasm lighting her pale face. “Yes, but it’s too slow. How much salary do you get a week?” Katie asked, suddenly. ** Thirty dollars.” ‘And [ get a hundred,” exclaimed the dancing girl, tri: umphantly. ‘' You use your brains, and I use my toes, there’s the difference. But, Coralie, don’t you ever have any one come to see you—any young gentleman, I mean?” Katie asked, with a cunning glance at the crimsoning face of the young actress. ‘‘ Come, puss, tell the truth.” ‘‘ Yes—some one used to come to see me—but he doesn’t come now,” she added, quickly, her soft eyes bent on the ground. ‘* Why doesn’t he come now?” “J—J don’t know,” Coralie said, shyly. * Didn’t you like to have him come?” “ Yes—but—” * But what?” **T didn’t love him.” ** But you liked him a little?” + Yes. ” “ Bet you a pair of gloves, you dear old sweetness, that 1 can tell who it was!” cried Katie, stealing her arm around the waist of her friend. ‘Oh, no!” exclaimed Coralie, in astonishment. ‘* 1 know you can not,” ‘‘ David Van Rensselaer!” we Ah!’ The young girl started in astonishment, and her face grew white as a sheet. ‘* How did you guess that?” she asked, her lips trembling, and the tear-drops standing in her large eyes. ‘* Don’t be worried, dear,” said Kate, caressingly, kissing the smooth cheek of the other. ‘‘ Joe told me that he was an admirer of yours; that’s the way I knew.” “You know that, with the exception of Doctor Warne, I haven’t a single friend. It was the doctor that introduced Mr. Van Rensselaer to me, and since his death he has seemed quite near to me.” “Are you sure that you don’t love him, you dear old girl?” Kate asked, smoothing back the golden-brown hair from the forehead. ** Yes, I am sure.” “Well, if you don’t love him, I wouldn’t have him come to see you any more.” “Why not?” “ Because Joe says that he speaks about visiting you in Eomicbooks.€o a)