Evening Star Newspaper, February 15, 1890, Page 7

mm Stam WOME WAS THE HARD? BY MISS BRADDON. Author of “Lady Andley's Secret.” “Like and Unlike,” “Ishmael,” “The Day Will Come” dec. l4LL RIGHTS RESERVED ——.__ CHAPTER XL A WOMAN WHO MIGHT HAVE BEEN HAPPY. ILBERT FLORESTAN, who came of age a few months before Robert Hatreil’s death, was still a bachelor. He saw his twenty-eighth birthday approaching and he saw himself no Rearer matrimony than when he was twenty- one. His life in the interval had been event- fal and he felt older than his years. He had entered the diplomatic service under the best Possiblejauspices, with family interests and Collegiate honors in his favor. He had traveled much, and had «pent the brightest years of his youth in vagrant diplomacy, passing from one m to another. He had loved and he had . and now at twenty-eight, having. as he believed, got beyond the passions and illu- sions of youth, he was established in Paris as &n idler by profession, well looked upon in the best society of the dazzling capital and not un- acquainted with the worst. He was not rich, as wealth is counted nowa- days, when hardly any man under a million- aire presumes to consider himself comfortably off. He had bread and cheese; that is to say, landed property which brought him nominally 2,500 a year,actually about 1,700. He was not am- bitious, He had lost father and mother before he was fifteen years of age and he had none but « antrelations. The stimulus to effort which paternal pride and maternal love might have aiforded was in his case wanting. He had no sister to interest herself in his endeav- ors and to exult in his triumphs. He had no brother to arouse the spirit of emulation in his sluggish temperament. He told himself that he stood alone in the world, and that it mat- tered very little what became of him—that he might co his own way, whether to blessedness or to ruin, without hurting anybody but him- self. This sense of isolation had tended toward cynicism. He saw the world in which he lived in its worst aspect and cultivated a low opinion Of his fellow men—and women—since one never ‘n April night in Florence, when, ® moonlit garden, he heard a ech from an open window justabove his head—speeeh which told him With bitter unreserve that the woman he had Worsh i ped half a saint was an audac sinner. rtillthat night had Gilbert Florestan @eliberately listened to a conversation that was for his ear. and on that night he ath the windowsill for less than five He only waited long enough to be Bure that he had not deceived himself—that the horrid words he had heard were not a delusion engendered of his own fevered brain. There, hidden amidst the foliage of magnolia and orange, he stood and listened to the two who leaned upon the cushioned sill above him, look- ing dreamily out into the night. No, there was no illusion. Those words were real—silvery sweet, though to him they sounded like the sa's snakes, They toldhim that ® was pursuing with adoring and all-confiling love was the mistress of another man—that if she were to yield to his prayers and marry him—a question which she was now th her lover—the marriage would le matter of convenience, and the lover would uot be the less beloved or the less favored. “For thee, Carissimo, it would be always the same.” said the silver voice; and the music of the waltz in the adjoining ball room seemed to take up the strain. “Always the same—always we same. Florestan waited to hear no more. He left minutes. the garden of that semi-royal villa, walked ngs in the Via Cavour, ts—those cherished » of which—from the tiniest note acknowledging a bouquet to the longest and most romantic disqaisition upon the old theme of he loves me, loves me not—he had treasured in a locked drawer, together with every flower he had begged from the clusters she wore on her breast, every old glove he had fathered and the satin slipper tor which he id more than its weight in gold to her mai He did not write her a letter. He Would not stoop so low 4s to give any expres- sion to his anger or his scorn. He had been deceived, that was all The woman he loved ouly existed in his imagination, The beauty which had won him belonged to quite a different kind of woman. Perhaps there was Ro such woman—out of a book—as the woman be had imagined, the only woman he cared to win. “I know you; good-bye.” ‘Those five words were all the explanation or farewell which hedeigned to send her. He Wrote them in Lis boll strong hand upon a sheet of Bath post, and wrapped it around the Packet of letters. “Then he packed them in Suother sleet aud sealed them with the seal which been set upon so many an ardent Outpouring of his passionate heart, Yes, be had loved her with all the fire and freshness of three-and-twenty—with all the romantic fervor of a mind fed upon classic Greek and steeped in Italian poetry. He bad come to * @ romantic youth, he left Florence a blase man of the world. and yet Bow, five yours after, in this bustling cosmo- Politan and distinetly modern Paris, the very though: of those old palaces in which he had danced with her. id gardens where they had sat in the mo nt, thrilled him with the bitter-sweet memory of a dream aad a delusion that had been dearer than words can tell. He had not been at Fountainhead, his birth- Place by the river, except for a week or a fort- Right af atime since be came of age and sold the meadows adjoining River Lawn to Robert Hatrell. But although he had been living abroad since he left the university he had never consented to let strangers inhabit the house in which his father and mother had lived fad died, albeit agents had been desirous | to find him an “eligible tenant.” The house Femained shut up. in the care of his mother's faithfui house keeper and her nephew, a handy Young man who helped in the gardens, where xpeuses had been cut down to the lowest level compatibie with the preservation of the beauty Of grounds which had been the chief delight of young Mrs. Florestan’s life. A womun takes to a garden naturally, as @ duckling fakes to water, and cherishes it, and watches it, Sad thinks about it as if it were a living thing. The worship of flowers and shrubs is inherent im the female mind, and a womau who did Bot care for her garden would be « monster. ‘The house was old, as old as the Tudors, and it was just one of those places which the mod- ern miliionaire would have ruthlessly razed to the fou or so altered, restored, enlarged and beautitied as to obliterate its every charm of age and picturesqueness, Florestan was content to leave it alone im all its subdued col- Oring, quaintness and inconveniences of con- Struction, telling of a civilization long past and of a life less pretentious and more domestic, ‘The gardens bad all tho crave beauty of an honorable old age. Very little money had been Spent upon th but there had been tasteand care from the uuing of things. when they by who pla: m had Lord Bacon's essay @ dens in thcir minds as 4 new thing and had own Br. wouinthe flesi and talked With bins ot trees aud flowers he loved. macy had carried Gilbert Flo- 'y far from the old home in which his Sncestors had dwelt from generation to genera- tion, but he kgpt the image of his birthplace in Scorner of his ieart. and he would aimost as fon have suid bis Leart’s best blood as the THE EVENING STAR: WASHIN GTON, D.C., SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1890—-TWELVE PAGES. house in which his people had lived and died. Paris suited his cynical temper at eight-and- twenty; a city h which the whole civil- ized world passed ; the vestibule of Europe, the playgreunt of America; a city in which a man who only wanted to look on at the life drama could have ample abeunae, to study the varieties of mankind, tes, professions, wealth and penury. Mr. Florestan had @ fourth floor in the Champs El. an nt which he spoke of jocosely as his bower. Nominally the fourth, it was practically the fifth floor, and the bal- cony commanded a bird's-eye view of the city. a vast panorama of white walls and gray and red roofs, throuch which wound the serpentine folds of the dark blue river. Although the rooms were so near the roof they were spacious and lofty, and were far- nished with some taste, Florestau’s own be- longings, books, pictures, photographs, bronzes and curios, giving an air of comfort and indi- viduality to the conventional Louis Seize suite of tapestried easy chairs and sofas, ebony tables and cabinets. The rooms comprised an ante room, where three large palms and a Turkish divan suggested Oriental luxury, and which served as a waiting room for tradesmen ad troublesome visitors of all kinds, a library, here he dined on the very rare occasions when he dined at home, a smail smoking room adjoining, and a spacious bed room, with dress- ing and bath room attached. Here Gilbert Florestan lived his own life, re- ceived the few intimate friends he cared about and shut out all the great category of bores, In the polite world of Paris he was Known as a well-born Englishman whose commanding presence and handsome face were distinctly ornamental in any salon, and he was welcomed accordingly with Parisian effusion, which he knew meant very little. In the demi-monde he was known as a young man who had out- lived his illusions, and in that half world he was @ more important figure than in the salons of the great. It must be owned that he had a preference for Bohemian soci with all its accidents and varieties, its brilliant reputations of today, its sudden disappearances of tomor- | row, its frank revelations, its avsence of all re- serve. He painted cleverly, in a sketchy style, after the manner of the impressionists, and he was very fond of art. Music and the drama had also an inexhaustible charm for him and he loved those out-of-the-way nooks and corners of the art world where dwell the men and women whose talents have won but scanty ap- preciation from the great public and who have never been spoiled or Phillistinized by large “Directly an artist gets rich there 1s a divine fire goes out of him.” said Florestan. “+All the spontaneity and the daring which made him great is paralyzed by the greed of gain. He no longer obeys the dirst impulses of his genius, the real inspiration, but he sits down to con- sider what will pay best; the thing, good or bad, true or talse, which will bring him in the most solid cash. He strives no longer to real- ize his ideal, He studies the market and paints or writes or composes for that, and so dies the divinity out ot his art. ders and flies to the trade bitten with tne desire to money the artist sinks to the level of the trader. He is no bet- ter than the middieman with his s! boulevard and his talent for reclam There is plenty of unrew talent in the great city of Peris: and amongst painters and composers who had never reached the monoto- nous table land of pri amongst journal- aud ts, Gilbert Florestan rid was Bohemian with- | out being vicious, but which occasionally opened | its doors to certain stars of the dem made who would hardly have been received in the great houses of the Faubourg St. Germain or | the Faubourg St. Honore. Tt was at a musi ening on a third floor in the Rue des Saints Peres that Florestan met two women in whom he felt keenly interested at first sight. They were mother and daaghter, The mother Y d looking once be handso: ter nently beautiful. tives of Grenada, The herself as the widow of a general officer, Felix Quijtda, who died when her only Jores, was an infant. She had migrated to Paris soon after her husband's heath and had lived there ever since. Mother and daughter | were both dressed in bl: with an elegant simplicity which did not forb use of a| great deal of valuable lice ti Ider lady wore diamond solitaire ear- | rings, and the young would not have misveseemed the throat ot a} duchess. Nowhere, however, could diamonds have shown to greater adv: -y whiteness of Mile. Dolores di Quijida’s swan- | like neck. Nowhere had Florestan seen a lov ier complexion or finer eyes: but that which attracted him most in the Spamish girl's face | sher resemblance to the woman he had | loved, the woman who had deceived him and | cli-nigh broken his heart. He interested | in her at first sight, and he begged to be intro- duced to her and her mother. By dhim with cordiatity, perhaps the handsomest and most aris- tocratic-looking man in an assembly where art was strongly represented by well-worn dress-coats on the pp and by eccentric toilets and_ picturesque heads on the part ot the women. Madime Dururque, the giver of the party, was the wite of a musi- cal man who had Written a successful opera succeeded b: eral un- 1 who now made a some- giving pianoforte lessons ons, whieh His genius shud- 's studio, for once of the men what seanty | and publishir “ he fondly believed to «8 good as Chopin's but whieh were rarely played by anybody except his own pupils, Clever people, musical or otherwise, liked good-natured little Madam: e's parties, and as she did not inquire too closely into the antecedents of any weil mannered and pre woman who sou: aintance people were met in her salon who were not without histories and whose whole existence was in ysterions and only to be guessed at, ‘The Spanish beauty and ucr mother were ac- j cidental acquaiatances, met at Boulogne-sur- Mer the previous summer, ing b: jek t ‘ “Are they not charming?” the little woman asked Florestan. while her husband, a grim- looking man, with a long, gaunt figure, after the manner of Don Quixote, a loug pale face and long gray hair, was crashing ont one of his noisiest mazourkas, in which the tempo rubato prevailed to an agonizing extent. “They are of a very old Castilian family. A Quijada was secretary or something to Charles the Fifth and I kuow they are rich, though they live in a very simple style on a second floor in the Kue Saint Guillaume. “The young lady's diamonds look like wealth, most assuredly,” replied Florestan; “but how comes it that so lovely a woman, and not with- out a dot. should be unmarried at fivé or six and twenty. She looks quite as old as that.” “Oh, she has had offers and offers. She i tired of admiration and pursuit. Her mothe has taiked to me of the grand opportunities has thrown away, She is capricious—a spotied child, ¢ does what she tikes, and her mother | is too tond of her to epee her in anything. hey adore each other. It is a most touchin; cle to sec them in their modest interior.” “The mother looks as if she could hate as well as love,” said Florestan; “there are some resolute lines about those lips and that promi- nent chin.” “Quite the patrician air, has she not, and re- markably well preserved too,” said Madame, who was proud of her guests and their diamonds. It was not often such diamonds had appeared long hair and | | ante room to a spacious but she awakened no tender of passion ii day evening, and if you should ever drop in upon our seclusion we shall be charmed to see you.” “Be sure, madame, that I shall not be slow to avail myself of that’ distinguished privilege,” replied Florestan, and his reply meant more than such an answer usually means, His curiosity, his interest in the side scenes of life, were aroused by these two women, in whose existence he scented one of those small social mysteries which he delighted to unravel, So beantiful and so elegant a woman as Senorit: Quijada would hardly waste her beauty and her jewels upon such a shabby salon as Madame uturque’s if she were free of more fashionable assemblies, She was evidently outside the pale, and with that hankering after respect- ability which is the canker worm of the dis- reputable, she had greedily accepted the un- eames kindness of the music master's wife “What do you think of those two?” asked a young portrait painter with whom Florestan we intimate as the Spanish ladies left the salon, “I take them to be women with a history.” es, andadark one. Madame Duturque is an angel of benevolence and simplicity and all her wandering lights are of purest luster, She has entertained a good many demons unawares and I fancy in Madame Quijada she has got hold of a very diabolical specimen.” “The lady is handsome and her manners are both dignifiedfnd refined.” “So are the manners of a Harpy, no doubt, when you meet one in evening dress. I daresay Ciytemnestra was a very elegant woman and Shakespeare's Lady Macbeth is one of the pet persons in the world of poetry. I think would as soon trust my life in a lonely Scotch castle with Lady Macbeth as on a third floor in Parix with Madame Quijada, supposing that Madame Q- had any motive for poisoning m . ou take a strong view,” said Florestan, smiling at his intensity. “Lalways take strong views. It is my trade to study the human countenance and I have @ particular study of those two faces, mother and dwughter. The daughter is a victim—the mother is a devil of cunning and unscrupulous greed! Did you see the diamonds they wore? Those are the price ofa woman's soul. The daughter has been sold to the highest bidder and the mother has been the huck: woman would do anything for gai “iam sorry for Mile. Qnijada, any truth in your supposition.” 0 am I—sorry almost to tears, She isa id, beautiful ‘creature—with very little more inteliect than a butterfly; but one is always sorry for a crushed butterfly; sorry for beauty trodden under foot. The is a woman who might have been happy. Yes, I am sorry for her.” restan lost no time in availing himself of ame Guijada’s invitation. He went to the St. Guilluaiae on the following Thursday evening, between 8 and 9, very curious to see «i kind of home the Spaniard and her daugh- had made for themselves in the wilderness of Paris. The honse in which they lived was one of the oldest and possibly one of the largest in the old-fashioned street, It was assuredly one of the most gloomy, a house with a stone court- ‘ard, screened from the street by a high wall, ‘0 enter the court after dark was like going into a deep abyss of gloom, through which a lighted window here and there shone faintly, mufiled by curtains. For the most part the windows were closed by Venetian shutters, through which no of lamplight escaped. The porter who answered his summons. in- formed him that Madame Quijada’s door was on the left side of the second-flvor landing, but vouchsafed no further attention, and he groped is way upward between the dim lamplight. in the vestibule and thes! fainter lightof a lamp on the first floor, The second floor had only the borrowed light from the floor below, and he was but just avie to distinguish the handle of the door bell. He was surprised at the door being opencd by an elderly man in hivery—a very vober ry—who had the air of an old retainer and who conducted him through a lobby and an salon, Where he found the two ladies seated, with a third who sat in a orner somewhat overshadowed by the project- ing chimucy piece, a woman of any age be- tween rty aud forty, whose pale face and prem, gray hair attracted Florestan’s at- tention, Seldom, if ever, had he seen a coun- tenance which bore in its every line so striking an evidence of past sorro “That woman with the iron gray hair must have suffered as very few women are called he told himself. ¢ beantifal Dolores was seated on a sofa on the opposite side of the hearth, fanning there is herself with a languid grace which’ brought into y e beauty of her hand and the bril- lianey of her diamond rings, and listening, or pretending to listeu, to the animated talk of a mun whom Florestan recoguized as the cele- brated journalist and novelist, Francois de Lornerae. A petit creve of two or three and twenty, who a pout near the sofa lost in admiration jy’s beauty and the journalist's wit, eted’ the party. Madame Quijada received him with much cordiality, Doiores gave him the tips of her lingers and Lornerae aecorded him a conde- se @ nod. A man whose last novel had taken Paris by storm could not be expected to put himscif out of the way on account of a cas- ual Englishman, 7 n took a chair near the lady in the ud then, having taliced for a his hostess, gave himseif up ion of the room. In his mind surroundings were always indicative of char- acter and he was anxious to see what the nest would say of the birds, ‘The salon was furnished with exquisite sim- plicity and in a subdued style of decoration and coloring that testitied to the refinement of the person who planned and arranged it, The Louis Seize arm chairs and sofas were cov- ered with old tapestry, in greenish and grayish tones, softened by age. They looked like fur- niture that had been brought from some old fam- ily home in the country. There were three or four small tables, a seerctaire in old waluut wood, an Indian screen and several yases filled with choice flowers, Of those bibelots and chinois- eries that ornament the average drawing room there was no trace, Those choice flowers, Which at this scason must have cost a good deal of money, were the ouly embellishment of the plain and somber furniture. Chief among them was a clustering mass of white lilac in a large vase of richly glazed delf that looked like lapis-lazuli, ‘The spacious and lofty room, with its somber colorings and air of a departed century, would have been very gloomy without these flowers, ‘They afforded ‘the only touch of brightness and gayety in the picture, “An affectation of few minutes wit to the contem} mplicity with consider- able expenditure in superfluities, such as hot house flowers and diamonds,” mused Florestan. “wonder what it all means? and I wonder what she means?” he added, looking ut the pale sull woman with the large softeyes and the iron-gray hair, be It might be that Madame Quijada saw his look, for she approached at this moment and introduced him to the silent lady, whom she described as her niece, Mlle. Marcet. “Louise is more than my niece; she is my adopted daughter,” she said; “her father and I were brought up together ona small estate in the neighborhood of Marseilles, and my niece here was born within sight of the Mediterranean.” “Do you see any likeness between my daughter and her cousin, monsieur?”” “Yes, there is a likeness,” answered Flores- tan. “I ean trace it in the form of the brow and in the expression of the eyes,” liv waited, looking at Mademoiselle Marcet with a friendly smile, expecting her to speak, and then keenly anxious to hear her voice he asked her an unmeaning question. “Are you fond of Paris, mademoiselle, or do you still regret the olive woods and pine-clad ills of Provence?” “I have never left off regretting them,” she on the third floor over a boot maker's shop in the Rue des Saints Peres, When the mazourka had finished in a tempest of double arpeggios and a volley of minor chords Florestan contrived to get a little con- versation with Mile. Quijada, ‘ e Her manners were certainly distinguished. She had a reposeful air which contrasted agree- ably with that Parisian vivacity which Flores- tan knew by heart. Her voice was deep toned and full and seemed just the one voice to har- monize with the dark and luminous eyes, the somewhat heavy features and marble coraplex- ion, She did not strike him asa brilliant or intellectual woman. She suggested & statue warmed into life, but only a dreamy and lan-, guorous life, which might at ay hour fade again into marble. He had a shrewd ‘ion that she was unhappy; that the diamonds and the adoring mother did not altogether suflice for happiness. There was a pained look some- times about the lovely, sensuous lips; there was adroop in the sculptured eyelids which suggested weariness, weariness of lite and of the world perhaps, or it might be that seif con- tempt which springs from the consciousness of a faise position, ‘He was struck with her and interested in her, answered in a subdued voice that struck him asfullof a vague pathos.as if sorrow had changed ali the major tones to minor, ‘and yet it is so long since saw them that they seem almost like the memory of a dream.” “And you have never been tempted to re- visit the south?” “No, mousieur.” “My poor Louise does not travel,” inter- jected Madam Quijada; “she suffered nine years back from a severe illness which shat- tered her nervous system. She has been obliged to lead a ‘tranquil life siuce then. She is our household fairy, the angel of the hearth, an admirable housewife, but she cares very little for the outer world, Except for her lazy people are up, and then, she very music wherever it is to be heard, but the opera most of all. It is another world. I forget ing while I am there.” Her face grew faintly animated The light was nota vivid Icast an awakening had noticed before, Re wanted “the mind, the music breathing in the face”—and in Madam Quijada’s neice, with her iron gray hair, lined forehead and piain black silk gown.he saw a spiritual beauty which en- listed all his sympathy, That idea of a great sorrow suffered in the morning of life, and leaving its indelible mark upon the sufferer, impressed him strongly. He was floating about among his great ladies in one of the most brilliant salons of republi- can Paris on the following evening, but he did not ask any of these luminaries for her box at the opera, preferring to go to the box office and pay for one. It was quite true that boxes had been offered him, but the occasions had been somewhat rare and he had only put for- ward that idea in order to lessen Mlle. Mar- cet’s sense of obligation. He wanted to give her pleasure if he could, and he wanted to see more of the curious trio, He sent the box ticket to Madame Quijada, expressing the hope that she and her daughter ann niece would attend the next representa- tion of Gounod’s Faust, which was fixed for the following night. The lady had told him that she seldom went out in the evening and he therefore counted on finding her disengaged. He added that he should have the honor of visiting their box in the course of the evening. He had secured a stall so that he should not API to have offered the box to the beautiful Dolores with the idea of exhibiting himself in her company for the whole of the evening, but the precaution was wasted so far as Dolores was concerned, for Madame Quijada’s daugh- ter was not in the box when he looked up from his Pea in tho stalls to see how it was occu- pie Madame Quijada was in the place of honor, looking dignitied and distinguished in her Spanish mantilla, fastened with diamond stars, and beside her, simply dressed in a black gown and a Marie Antoinette fichu, sat Louise Marcet, attentive and absorbed, evidently drinking in every note of the overture. He had scarcely time to wonder at Mlle. Quijada’s absence when some one in the next row said, “How do you do, Fiorestan?” and he was startled at finding his River Lawn neigh- bors seated exactly in front of him, Mother and ds side. the girl in } bunch of Parma mother in dark gliter were sitting side by 7 simple white gown with a violets on her breast, the gray velvet and sapp tires, lncidly beautiful, with ‘Vitianesque eyes and air, assuredly one of the loveliest women in that assembly, albeit her charms were in their summer tuaturity and not in their vernal fresh- ness. It isnot granted to many women to be rfectly beautiful at eight-and-thirty, but it Pea been granted to Ambrose Arden’s wife, and her husband’s heart thrilled with pride as he noted Florestan’s admiring look, a look which passed over the daughter to linger on the beauty of the mother.” Florestan’s glance went back to the daughter presently, and he saw that she wa Vs with a loveliness which echoed every note in the mother’s beauty, only the lines were less developed and less definite, the coloring was less brilliant. He looked from the girl to the young man beside her and recognized Cyril Arden, whom he ‘There hac intimacy River Lawn, but there had been a and exchange of civilities from the commence- ment of the Hatreils’ residence, when the owner of Fountainhead was an indergraduate, subject to the dominion of guardians, He had thus in a manner seen Daisy Hatreil grow from infancy to girlhood, and he noted the opening flower with admiring She seemed to him qaaintance the perfection of English girlhood; her com- plexion of lilies and roses, b auburn hi ed his 1 of E . as in her mother’s case, the ney of the color: led the school of rather t ynolds, ngratulation to Ambrose Arden, whom he had always re- garded as a scholarly and inoffensive person, a mere nonentity outside his libracy. He won- dered much that such a man could have won the heart of such a woman as Clara Hatrell, He asked if they had jast come from Lam- ford, and was told of thei alia C i iver Lawn almost am longing to be 7 1 Venice could not make mother false to River Lawn,” added Daisy, “And are not yo d to go home, Miss Hatrell?” asked Florestan, “Home is always sweet to see all the d river, book: Venice wa I suppose “By heart. ‘There are very few spots in Italy that I don’t know. There goes the curtain,” The curtain rose, and Florestan was sileat, deterring his visit to Madame Quijada’s box till the end of the act. He had looked up once while he was talking to his friends, and had seen that lady's keen blac! watehing hin intently, while her daughter. wrapped in the music, seemed unconscious of all else, and cer- tainly uneon aed about him. He left his place after the curtain fell aud went sgaight to the box, where the open door suggested that he was expected, “I am sorry not to seo Mile. Dolores,” he said, when he had exchanged greetings with both ladies. “She sends you her best thanks for your courteous invitation,” replied Madame Quijada, “but she very seldom goes out in the evening, Our appearance at that good Madame Dutur- que’s was an exceptional event.” “It isa pity that so much beauty should be hidden from the world,” said Florestan, Madame Quijada bowed her ackuowledgment of this speech and returned to the contempla- tion of the audience. She seemed to know everybody of consequence in that assemb! by sight—but she recognized no oue as an acquaintance. “You were talking to some friends in the stalls, just now,” she said to Florestan, with her eyes fixed upon the Arden party; ‘a very handsome woman, with a handsome daughter, They are your compatriots, no dodbt?” “Yes, they are English, "The lady is my next door neighbor on the banks of the Thames, She has lately married for the second time, Louise Marce: followed the direction of her aunt's eyes, and looked down at the stalls, where the two beautiful heads with rich au- burn hair were conspicuous ina central posi- tion, The orchastra was sileut just now and Louise's thouglits were at liberty, “Isshe a great lady in England, a lady of title?” asked Madame Quijada, curiously. “No, she is the wife of acommorer. She and her husband are well off and of good family, but they are not great people. “What is the lady’s name? “Arden. Her daughter is Miss Hatrell." “Hatrell!” Louise Marcet repeated the name almost in a whisper. There was something in her tone that startled Florestan, and he was still more surprised on looking at her to find her ash: pale. Her aunt saw the bares in her face an rose quickly and supported her to the back of the box, where she moistened her temples with eau-de-cologne. “The poor child will be better soon,” she said to Florestan, “she has been subject’ to these wretched swooning fits ever since her illness, Come now, Louise, you are better now, are you not?” “Yes, Iam quite well now. It was no’ ae “Oh, it was very nearly a fainting fit. e have just esca; all the fuss and anxiety of a swoon, What was it made you feel ill—the light-and heat or the excitement of the music?” “It was the light, perhaps. It gave me a kind of vertigo. And I was so interested in looking at Mrs. Hatrell,” she said, pronouncing the name with an accent which somewhat disguised it. “Tell me about her,” she went on, turning to Florestan; “she is your friend, you say?” nd” “Yes. she is my friend.’ Satna he Bes matelod Sor the second time, I , a8 late as last September.” yes, [shall be glad old things again—gardent horses and dogs, aud boats—but ‘simply intoxicating, You know it, asked i with reviving interest, “Never. I suppose never will be.” Louise had resumed her seat and was gazing st the two fair faces in the stalls absorbed in contemplation, nn ae ee ee ee asked prea ently. have never met a sweeter girl Ihave known her from her childh: but we have not seen very much of cook oer Ihave been a wanderer, as I think I told you the other night.” “Yes,” answered Louise, absently, with her eyes fixed on Daisy's happy face. “How happy she looks, and how Was she fond of her father?” “Very fond. She was only a child when she lost him, but she was devoted to him and he to “You remember him? You knew him well?” Fairly well, and liked him much. He was as frank and open as the day—a man without guile.” “Ido not like that other man,” said Louise, still looking down at the stalls, "Which man?” “The second husband.” “Why not? How can you like or dislike ata glance?” “Talways do. I liked and trusted you at the first glance. I distrust him.” (To be continued.) tee YOUTHS, WHY ARE YOU SO BALD? Simply, One May Suppose, Because the Affliction is Incidental. HOW YOUNG MEN BECOME DBALD—INTERESTING FACTS ABOUT THE HAIR AND ITS GROWTH—WHY BALDNESS CANNOT BE CURED—THE USELESS- NESS OF LOTIONS AND $0-CALLED REMEDIES, NE hears a good deal said about per- sons who are prematurely bald,” said a man who has for twenty years combed his hair with a towel the “But, as a matter of fact, comes with age. On the contrary, it rarely does so. Whea aman gets bald it is not age that occasions it, but causes constitutional. In all my life I have never known a man to reach forty-five years witha good crop of hair and lose it subse- quently, Ask any bald-headed man when he first began to lose his normal cranial thatch and he will tell you that he became bald not long after he was twenty. For the fact is that such is the time at which a person,if he is to be bald at all, inevitably exhibits marked symp- toms of it, Of course, you yourself know plenty of young men who are bald, Their misfortune is no small one, inasmuch as an hur- sute deprivation of the sort not only mars the good looks of the victim but also takes him appear many years older than he would otin wise seem, It is really unfortuna Young man who would otherwise ingly comely transform himself into an indi- vidual of elderly if not grotesque aspect BY SIMPLY TAKING OFF MIS HAT. To perceive how important a difference it makes in a man’s appearance you have only to consider the difficulty of recognizing a bald man whom vou don't know very well when he hhas has hi t him indoors before. noticed that myself,” ventured Tue Stax reporter. sat the baldness should come so y. One might be reconciled to it asa phenomenon naturally incidental to age and the decay of things; but itis rather hard for a young man scarce grown to fiud that his seulp’ coveriag ulready shows symptoms of bemg mercly a deciduous growth. When one world one naturally imagines that he is entitied to his hair for. ll events, the major part of his lifetime. ‘To lose it in this uncalled-for manner seems indeed an outrage. Known as aman who is bald prematurely you go about in so conscious of the fact that onare at a disadvantay, Yon imagine al- vs that you are supposed to be older than »—very likely with some reason. People say of you: “‘Lwonder wiy it that Mr, Timpkins should WOMEN ARE NOT BALD. “In short, you are a curiosity, The afliction from which you suffer is not shared by the op- posite sex at all, Rarely is it that a woman loses her hair—possibly because men for thousands of generations back have not made a practice of selecting those women for wives who lack a natural coiffare. Frequent find young women With hair thatis preiaturel white; but they can afford not io miud that, inasinuch as there ix nothing so ming tO a woman as white hair, which imparts, wnether by contrast or otherwise, a youthiulness to the aspect of its owner not equaled by any artifice known to the most skillfui artist in fem make up, ya time of m ance to bewail the fact that they were not alle to grow on the top of their heads ihe sume luxurious crops that sprouted with such sought spontancity on their Se By the w mention that one frequently apers tales about this or that n bei exhumed from his loped a beard, he was shaved ‘The conclusion sought from this t the hair grows after the after death, is ne the life of ty lusion is very much akin to that which directs the supposition that old people sometimes get « third set of teeth. In such eases, of course, the have shru: 1 the jaw bone, ting through the flesh, 1s taken for FRESH CUT DENTAL APPARATUS, There's only one thing to be suggested to bald people that is likely to be ben that is that they shall leave advertised cures for the complaint rigorously alone. When the hair f out and leaves a bald spot it means that the hair plants are dead, and no way has thus far been di red of replanting other r plants in the same area, The hair, like . grows from a root. It de- rives it indirectly from the blood and is kept oiled and in proper condition by a special giand appropriatee to each individual staik. Always itis a tube, and the difference between curly hair and straight hair is mercly that the tubes in the former case are flattened, while in the latter they are more round. To attempt after the individual plant represented by a hair has been destroyed to reuew the existence of that plant is an ai surdity. Not all the nostrums im the quack eo vndar will accomplish it. When you ar +o procure a hair from a he d transfer it to one that is non- o that it will grow, then you mi wbout curing baidness; but not before, No man who has passed twenty- five years of age and retained his natural wig need be afraid of baldness for the rest of his days. As I was going to say a moment ago, 4 man's beard after death often seems un- truly to have growu. merely for the reason that the flesh of # corpse shrinks and thus the beard is exposed to view unnaturally,” IN THE PRESIDENT’S ROOM. Queer People Who Visit Mr. Harrison’s Quarters at the Capitol. “You would be surprised,” said the guard in the President’s room at the Capitol, *to know how often visitors come in here and, after looking about at the general effect of the fur- nishing and decorations, which, you observe, are red, asl “‘And where can we find the blue room we have heard so much about?’ “They have mixed up the Capitol and the White House in their minds, of course. Con- stantly people inquire of me where the Presi- dent’s living quarters are—whether at this end of the Capitol or at the other.” “Are people permitted to come into the President's room, sit down and stay as long as asked Tux Star reporter, RESTRICTIONS FOR VisiroRs, “Most emphatically not. The room would be used as asort of club by the loungers or the Capitol if we permitted anything of that sort, The time allowed people to stay is five min- utes, If visitors overstay that limit they are “politely his ecg to leave. Why, I have known country folks to come here and bring their lunch, evidently with the intention of eating it upon the center table or of pi i picnicking on the on—supporing that you have al- | AUCTION SALES. CaTaLocuR ora LARGE CONSIGNMENT OF ORIENTAL CARPETS, RUGS axD HANGINGS, Embracing some of the rarest TURKISH TEXTILES, BOTH ANTIQUE, MODERN AND EVER IMPORTED. THE SALE WILL TAKE PLACE aT MY ART ROOMS, ELEVENTH ST. AND PENNA. AVE., TUESDAY, WEDNESDAY AND THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 19 AND 20, AT 11 AM. AND 3 P.M. EACH DAY. EXHIBITION MONDAY, 17TH, SALE. DAY PRIOR TO This is s Very Important Consignment and should command the attention of Parties desiring elegant floor and window decorations. THOMAS DOWLING, po © served * | FS) ByQreery on 5 NUMPAWEST, BEIN aH, we will sell in front o . 1 Dwel. Ai as Lo | years, wotes to bear per cent impually, or one-hait cash, bal; yers uc 6 pe t of deiaulting purch: pub isl Lha-cads i PEREMPTORY AUCTIO! Penn, ave. n. 8: AND DOG Cal FIFTH STREET, BETW NORTHWES 1 On WEDNESDAY, ¥i 1590. beginning at TEN LOC named premises, F: DAU. > z search of such stoc! dermis cash, fl4i-dts "RATCLIFFE, Dal PARLOR | FU! WIN BRUSSELS HA. 2S TH, at TEN € entire contents of preuiise OTS: BUILDING R G MIN SIRERT ¥ TUESDAY 4 NTH, ATH of the p being, SQUARE i years, no! aunually, aud to be sectired « y de 1 cash, at vption of purc ns to be st of purchayer. een days, otherwise right risk aud cost of the desault * public notice of such resal pubiished in Wartinetou, {1 l-deds DUNC, = > iF] fe] = © Fy) rc] = 5 & & Ss - ee THE FARM WAGO: | FOR MAIRE M. Ne 1 WaGoy, PLOUGHS, * PLATE 8. HOSL. ., SO SCY2HES, CORN SHELL! On MONDAY, FEBRUAR’ BE ‘APT we tention of use. ‘Terms cash, y WALK OF FAKM. No. 1368, folio 18, et seq, one of party secured there); Trout of the » We Wall sell . Premises SD, FEBRUARY | TWENT HALe-PAST FOU | and afty-civist (LOS), of the record: the mud District, toether with all wuys, easements, richts, privileges ‘Lhe ubove property wi ce of about 81,800 with in! Per aunaus (witch ri . rr Per cent interest, ILDING LOTS ON THIRD Bi STKEEIS NOKTHEAST, 30 to be assumed by the purchaser, posit of 200 rev i ‘on Sixth street with a feet 459 inches, aud improved by a Tw . be KA wi exuptorily se! at public auction, m frout of the abo oN Conveyancing, &e. omphed with in fit erved to rene ION SALE, 2 HEIEERS, WE TONS BUTCHERS’ b Ti CULIT He a THE us partly mentioned INUS OF H-STREET HERDIC COACHES: the District of Columbia, and at th Auctioneer. 20N, FEBRUARY we will sell in being improved by or Sherman and in ears, convenient to ined at time of rine ix property beinse kes it very d Tene aver ufter five days’ sale 1m some Lewspaper pub- NCANSON BROS., Auctioneers. ATCLIFFE, DARR & CO, Auctioneers, we SES, CAR- TWENTY. STKEETS INETEENTH, ve 1 UUM SEAT CARRIAGE, And to this sale we invite the atteution of persons in RR & CO., Aucte HOMAS DOWLING, Auctioneer. OW HANGINGS RPETS, WALNUT GLURE IN Sets: T WAKE, MAT- NING “ROOM AKE, kK. wil prewises, the finest Building Lot 239, try and running readily be sub- worthy the at- { WUst on pri user. A depost of at ED VATORS, UWS. 1G,0 DAK, ail the above. to persons desirous of securing first-class Cattle and Luplements for Farm RATCLIFFE, DARR & CO., Auctioneers, OR COLUMBIA WITHIN FiVE fiat 20,, Auctioneers, Jéunsylyania ave, nw. TRUSTEES’ SALE OF A VALUARLE TWO-STORY BMICK DWELLING, No. 2011 POKTNEK PLACE NORTH WE: By virtue of deed of trust duly recorded in Liber the laud records of e request of the at public auction in AX AFT EL NOON, ber sourteen (14), iolioone hundred 18 uf the surves or of the improvements, and appurtenances to the samme beloLwing oF iu any wise appertaining. iil be sola subject to au icum- tat Sip percent tence! ‘will be fully stated at time of sale.) cush (over and above the encum- cein six and tweive mouths with 6 payable semi-annually, secured by deed of trust on property sold, or all cash, at option of ie torus of sale purchaser. If th defaulting purchaser alter five day some hewsbaper published in Washington, Dc, ‘are not complied with e risk and cost cf the ‘8’ advertisement in Ade- Bosit of $200 required upon acceptauce of bid, ‘All teens SOHN S. SWOIISTEAD, NS. SWo: _f10-déds__JAGOB'D, WILSUN, } Trusteca, VEO. W. STICKNEY, Auctioneer, 936 Fst. TRUSTEES SALE OF VALUABLE IMPROVED PROPERTY, @ No. 1002 I STREET NORTHEAST. yirtue of a ce of By tain deed No. 1561, folio 447, one of the land District of Colum secured thereby; 1 nes, on WEDN ES! BAU ALY, 2 AY, 1 “PA! P.M, the folk ‘bed Washington, Disttiot oF Golan 14 in b. H. Warner's subdivision of original equare 057. of @) and two ber centum per annum, payable uired at the of sale. All com chuser's cost, Terms to be s. S-cokds cy scanewith inenest 6 (2) years, ‘semi-annually, oF SO a ye ee it re- ; balance in one at the rate of ix) Bi }CLUFFES DARE & CO., Auct ISTRA’ SALE OF pervs tite sen sr, MILLER, DI 5 ‘920 Pa ave. nw. adi said Oe UCT10) FEL Day EN ine SENTIETH RSD tWENt ¥- HRCA ie rics al frou VA pAvENU! oy CST SO EE GREE he consisting ‘on aw Egat teeee Seis et roe ers oe AUCTION SALES. FUTURE Days. AU, vant & 00., 496 w oneers, Pa. ave. OUSES AND LOTS: LAND M STREET TWO TWO-STORY FR AMEE | sell im front of the premises: THE SOUTH 42 FEET S INCHES OF LOT 12, UARE 51 with adepth of 120 Test toa 80-foot alley, and ime Proved by two T ry Frame Dwellings this prop > markets, street-car lines and the jecant opportunity for invest. ith notes bearing ivterest at the rate of 6 pet cent per annum, secured by deed of trust, or all cash, ®t option of purchaser, Termsto be complied with 3 day F Of wale, otherwise the mht the: risk and cost . jays’ public advertise ment in some ne ed in Washituxton, D CA deposit of & x sie Alt convey aneibg abd reconim at purchaser's Cost “fi 4-ate RATCLIFFE, DARK & Oc, Acts _ FFOL*®, Auctioneer. THE ENTIRE STOCK GF DRY GOODS, CLOAK. Tie os STOKE. 908 STREET LL BE SOLD AT AUCTIO: rEB RUARY 4. aT'1o DaA¥ AT SAME HOUR TU The stock Pu Napkins, Sheetines "Biny derwear, Hosiery” aid — chieis, Unibrell ubber Gaurmenta, J+ Cloaks, Ginghams, C Persoy cs yy Handker- reeys FIN FIFTY PER CENT, SECURED BY REAL ESTATE SIX PER CENT ON PRINCIPAL IN ADDITION GUARANTEED. TEN DOLLARS And Upward Recei sed Best Paying, Most Secure and Keliable Investment of the day. ‘This investment is backed by prominent men of the state. For particulars address WM. W. SMITH, 42 Vance Block, _ {6-tuth,s.47 HE ATTE Good Inve: Indianapolis, Ind. DESIRING A House net, while lots, years. dor full partie WALLIA Real Estate ea will pay rental blocks and sen aud + Washington Re B. H. WARNER & 00, COE F. L. MOORE, ve S MACARTNE! DAVIS & OV. it Duluth . MYEKS & WHIPPLE, FACTURERS' BANK, _BANK OF WEST DULUTH.» 2 LPs Excuancr, O12 Fest now, Stocks, Bonds and Oil bought and soll at rerular York Stock exchauge prices in lots to ai Sole eats this citys, Bankers, ‘Cal. Seven and eight per cent interest, with the very best of reul estate security, principal and interest to be paid im Washitucton or New York, as desized. Ourat- BANKERS AND BROKERS, 1411 F Street, Washington, D.C. Members of New York Stock, Produce and Cotton Exchange. Connected by private wire with GREEN & BATEMA BALDWIN & FAKNU y. COKSON. aN0 Wy, MACARTNEN, jeauber NX. Stuck Ex, CORSON & MACARTN’ GLOVER BUILDI i4iy Penkers and Dealers in Government Bonds, Deposits. Fachanee. Loans. Collections, Railroad St ks and Lords, and all securities listed Dork, Pluladeiyiia, seston ephou Awerican bell i cicphone Stock bonsht and sold.jy18_ BOOKS AND STATIONERY Bee®® STATIONERY AND FeovicALs, NOTE PAPER, 150 styles, fre 0c. per quire up, PAPER BY THE POUND. Di ‘Send name aud address and san ROBERT F. MILLER, 112-3 589 1dth st, Corcoran Building, FAMILY SUPPLIES. Curaresr Ix Tur Cr Choice New York Buriank Potatoes, 75c. per bua, ted Sugar, ticks. per th. c butter, 2se. per pound. 5 per Db WALK 4 1b. Kice, nsw Great Repverox Granulated sugar, 6l¢c 6 lbs, Best Kolled Gav RECO, “ Dried Apple: “* Best Laundry Starch, 25, “ ‘Turkish Prunes, 25¢. Best Pork Roast Se, N. A. POOLE, 944 Louisiana ave GENTLEMEN’S GOODS. _ AILOLING, FALL AND WINTER, '89-°90. Our own lmportatious now received, and you are invited to ispect at the well-known house om H. D, BARR, IMPORTING TAILOR sell 1111 Penna. ave. MEDICAL, &e, Lees WHO REQUIRE THE si perienced Female Physician Airs. WILSON, 1100 Park >, LLthand 13th > °. G,Lithand 12th ota, me, ouly, “Bewedy $0, Tp Los. ‘The Oldest Fstablished and only Reliable Ladies ets. Dow. Prompt treatment, Consultation strictly confiden- tial) “Separate rooms for Ladiea: ‘Medicine’ a, alle $1." Ottice aways open, ii - KOPESSIONAL MASSAGE CAN BE OBTAINE. ‘with best of medical refereuce, by applytug,at 614 Sth st nw. 16-00" 1! icouD’s MUTUAL HEALTH INSUKANCE SOCIETY OF WASHINGTON, D.C. Open to Gentiemen of Secret Only for, the Cure and Prevent : Office 1223 13th st. uw. Dr. V. CONDOKY, Consulting Piysician. Entrance fee monthly dues 61. 2 . DE FOREST, LONG-ESTABLISHED MM raiaite vadtes Prd Lo! Piiywiciat, cau be ey &, st uw. Ofice 1cYp. m.; with Ladies only. ANHOUD RED’ s Ar iccce be BhotitbAe inturcrwut Will cure any case of Nervous Debility and loss: nerve power. It te the Jaz7-3m*