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Show i Uhe Winning of Mrs-. West. 'I An Everyday Occurrence. ji ! 1 ! J Tlfe spring storm had como up suddenly. It 1 1 was raining fast, and Mrs. Hartwell West, who ,'? was without an umbrella, was walking rapidly j! through a sido street uptown. H j t I A young man came up from beihnd and spoko B I J 1 to lier llG stare(1 so violently that he laughed. V M P I "I hope I didn't frighten you!" ho exclaimed, K ' b1-' apologetically. 1,1 v "Oh, no!" looking up at him through the mist; j "you didn't frighten me, but my mind was so far fljjjj' away and oh, I was feeling so lonely and B tfJIl' wretched !" She broke off, embarrassed at R f I F ner confession. B fill ! !? B Ji a "That?" he smiled, holding the umbrella over H U LI her. B 1. 1 y I "That I am quite sure, Mr. Dulaney, if you B h jj had not come up when you did I should have B f'l ill thrown myself down on somebody's doorstep to B $1 I f die by way of diversion." B B fjij "I am glad if I put an end to such tragic re- B I ill solves," he returned, and added, lightly, "but why B ll ill are you' w1 your youth and loveliness, wretched m I' and lonely, Mrs. West?" if 0M "I was wretched," exclaimed Louise, "I sup- B f 1 1 pose, from habit I was lonely because I was B I alone." B jf !' "I was alone," he returned, "yet I wasn't BJ Wh lonely." B I p S "You had your "anticipations with you, I sus- h I II pGCC Efj r; "What do you suppose they were?"' he asked, fj y trying to see her face. "Upon my word, when 1 Hff ffl met you my utmost prospective was a Manhattan Kff if cocktail." Hh ' They laughed at this, and had to scramble for H jl the umbrella that the wind bore over to her side. B I "You haven't forgotten the other evening." Bl (' j she said, timidly. "Weren't you surprised at the H 'i i way i drank?" KJ ' "It seemed out of keeping with you," remarked 1 1 the man, who had been calling upon her hus- Hi ) band, "but nothing surprises me." HK I "I learned how when I was first married," she Kj f 11 continued, apologetically; "he used to tell me he Hj i I couldn't care for a girl who didn't drink with Hf ! ' him and smoke cigarettes." Hji ! "Great God!" muttered the man, under his H j breath. Hj I "What?" asked Louise, startled; "do you Hj J think it was so terrible?" H- "I do; don't you?" Hri "I did, but I have got used to it." H'? I "Well," said her companion, indifferently, Hf! A "that's the whole of life, getting used to things. H I Shall we go and realize my anticipation?" H 1 "I am afraid he might be in and expecting Ime." "Does he always come in when you' expect him?" H H "Oh, no! but that is different at least he Bf says so." "And is that one of the things. you have got., used to?" . "Yes," she laughed; "that is one of the many things." "Why 'do you submit?" She looked up at him surprised. "I mean why don't you do something to brighten bright-en your own life?" "What can a married woman do?" Dulaney laughed. He had heard that Hart-well Hart-well West had married a girl from a country town. "Why, a married woman has all the advantages," advan-tages," he replied. Hor eyes shot a gleam of interested query at him, "What are they9" she' asked, quickly. "Oh, you must think them out for yourself!" If I told you, you might rise up some day and reproach re-proach me. Women always do that." They were approaching her doorstep, and she was thinking, now, at a lively pace, of the lonely room upstairs and the dreary hours she would spend before bedtime with her husband away. She was thinking of some women in evening dress and long coats ferlng them whom she saw entering en-tering a hote' d the desolation of her life. They stopp , . ej e the door; the vehicles that passed went very rapidly and silently. "All the world seeks pleasure, doesn't it, Mr. Dulaney?" she asked, looking wistfully up at him. "All the sensible world yes," said Dulaney, reading the struggle going on. "Come," he added, add-ed, brightly, "you must be very lonely, and Mr. West will not be home fdr hours. I left him at the club playing billiards. He was going to have, dinner with a party. I heard it arranged." A sudden resentment over her husband's unceasing un-ceasing pleasures, in which she was never included, in-cluded, angered her. "I will go," she said, hotly. "That's right!" declared Dulaney, "have some pluck! I wish we could strike a cab of something," some-thing," he concluded, looking up and down. "Oh, no! let us walk that is," she hesitated, "if I really am going." She laughed nervously. "It is all so beautiful," she continued, "I mean the atmosphere." "It is!" cried Dulaney, almost eagerly leading ier off. -And then he was very gay, and when isbe laughed he told her it was like listening to silver bells. He caught her by the arm and made her run over the crossing. Louise forgot her misery for the moment, and when the door of the restaurant was opened to them she was panting and out of breath and the color had mounted to her cheeks. When Dulaney had seated her he leaned across the table and looked smilingly in her eyes. "I am quite sure you have a pretty name; do you mind telling me what it is?" "Louise," she answered, simply. "Louise? Well, that's gentle and rather like you. But here are the cocktails. When I meet a pretty woman I always like to know her first name right off you didn't mind my asking you?" "No, certainly not. How beautiful it is here!" "Do you like it?" he asked, putting down his glass. Like it! Unaccustomed to any change in her dreary life, she felt that she had stepped from the storm into a kind of heaven. The cocktail quickly accentuated her emotion. ' The frescoed walls, upon which pale yellow butterflies seemed lloating, the soft, nondescript carpet and bluish-colored hangings, the spotless linen and pretty silver completely charmed her. The warmth that stole over her was delicious. "Suppose, Mrs. West," said Dutaney, when he had finished giving the order for the dinner, "that this moment was the realization of a six months' dream?" "Why, what do you mean?' "That ever since I saw you at a theatre last winter with your husband I've been trying to get an invitation from him to his house. I was quite sure that if I could-just meet you we should soon be sitting at this very table it's my corner." "Oh!" gasped Louise, changing color, "you thought that of me?" "Certainly; weren't you sufficiently charming to inspire the dream?" "But I mean -" "Oh, ""well, never mind!" he interrupted; "how would you feel about it the realization of a dream?" Louise looked about her. "I tun terribly frightened at being here," she replied, emphatically. emphat-ically. "Oh, that's nonsense!" "I've never been anywhere before except wit'h my husband," she explained. "Charming," answered Dulaney; "proper, you know, and all that kind of thing, but isnt' it a little wearing?" "I don't understand you!". , "No?" "But I do understand one thing I feel it!" "And what is that?" "That it isn't right for me to be here." Dulaney laughed merrily. "There aren't any bears around," he suggested. "No, but " 'Oh, come now! What do you know about right, Mrs. West?" "I know what I feel." "A woman's feelings are the worst guide in the world," said Dulaney. "They always fetch her up wrong. Is staying home to watch for a husband, who half the time doesn't show up, right? What kind of a life is that?" "Stop!" exclaimed Louise, flushing. "You mustn't say such things!" "But I will!" retored Dulaney. "Everybody knows it. And people are sorry for you, Mrs. West. I am! I like your husband, but It's a shame the way he neglects you!" Tears sprang to Louise's eyes. Dulaney leaned over and laid his hand of hers. "It's a shame," he repeated, tenderly, and silence fell between them. A party entered several fashionable ladies and gentlemen, and she watched them with keen B interest. She was aroused by one of the women B looking back over her shoulder and nodding to B Dulaney, who responded with a careless smile. B They seemed to know each other very well, all fl these dashing people, and sudenly she, to whom fl it was all new, felt strange and chilled in the fl surroundings out of place. B "You know them?" she asked, arousing her- B self. B "That party? Very well." Bf "The lady you bowed to is very beautiful." B "Do you think so?" B "I do don't you?' fl "Ida Cavendish? Not at all she dresses well. fl Why don't you laugh again? I never heard anv- B thing so pretty." B For answer she raised swimming eyes to his. fl "I did not know that I ever laughed," she said. fl "But you do very often, it hasn't been stran- B gled out of you it's charming. Perhaps, too," B he added, abruptly, "you do not know that you H are very beautiful." H "No," exclaimed Louise, springing to her feet. H "And you shouldn't look at me that way and say H such things and I I shouldn't have come here H 1 knew " H "Sit down," said Dulaney, quietly. "I assure B you I meant no disrespect." H "Ah! but I know," repeated Louise, helplessly, B 'I should not have come!" B "I cannot see that, or really why you should B object to hearing of your beauty; it is not so with B women generally. Perhaps you are not a wo-B wo-B man," he added, smiling, "but really what you B seem I dare not say what it is, for fear of of-B of-B fending you again ; you are so averse to compli-B compli-B ments. What I had in my mind, though, was an B angel." B The waiter at this moment turned a flood of K light upon them, and he was very handsome in K the brilliant reflection. There was gentle amuse-jfl amuse-jfl menfin his clear gray eyes that were fixed upon JB her admiringly. Suddenly, Louise was conscious jB cnly of llIs presence and the delight of her sur-jB sur-jB roundings. She drank the glass of wine that the B waiter poured quickly, and a moment later closed B her eyes. Ah! tt was all so delicious! The din-B din-B ner progressed pleasurably. When she had drunk B her tnlr(l glass of wine her head felt confused BR an( slie crie(l a little, but even the tears were de-JB de-JB liEhttul, and when Dulaney asked her very gently B wny slie cried she absently put out a hand to him B and aid she dId not ltnw. He took it, and as B tne waiter turned his back leaned over and kissed B it. jB "r do not think I quite understand," said Lou-jB Lou-jB Ise' withdrawing her hand. "I believe I am asleep jB in my own bed di earning." B "Let us come nere very often and dream," said B Dulaney with velvet intonation. B H It was a very different Louise who was seated B PPsite Dulaney at the same table a few days B later. B " only came," she was saying, excitedly, "to B tell you how wretched I have been, how per-B per-B ectly desperate!" H "And not the least bit to see me?' B "No; I hate you!" B While Bhe was excited she was utterly cast H down, too, as though all the strength had gone B out of her. The bitterness of the first violation mm was full upon her. She looked at Dulaney with 9H wild, alarmed eyes. "If only," she cried, "you Bhad not ordered that carriage!" B "But my dear girl, how else cquld I get -you -jjBhome through the rain?" Jfl "You don't know how wretched I have been!" Bshe repeated. lB "You were that before you met me," said Du- 'IBDaney, calmly. Wm "Yes, yes, I know' she was wringing Iher iM hands; "but it is a different kind of wretchedness! wretched-ness! No, no," as the waiter came up, "I don't want anything! I never want to see a drop of drink again!" "But we've got to order something if, we sit here." "Well, don't let's sit here!" She sprang up. "We can walk the streets. I can talk to you outside!' out-side!' i "Bring a small bottle of Ruinart," said Dulaney Du-laney to the waiter. "I won't touch it!" "You needn't if you don't wish to." "You don't care. You care nothing for all I have been through and endured!" "There you are entirely wrong. I care a great deal, for in it lay your charm your being a novice, I mean. My dear child, you will never endure in that delightful fashion again; make the most of it!" "What do you mean?" "That you have been simply reveling in that exclusive feminine emotion that comes but once. Don't imagine that you haven't been enjoying yourself." Louise dropped in her seat and stared at him. "Now listen," said Dulaney, quietly. "You have been going through a tremendous emotion; it was all so fine that you couldn't resist coming here today to tell me about it, and, besides, you wore very anxious to see me, because, if for no other reason, it was I who brought it all about. If I had accepted your first refusal to meet me again your wretchedness would be of an altogether different dif-ferent order. You would really be quite the most doleful little girl in town. Because I knew that I wouldn't accept it, and you aren't really so miserable this very moment, while, of .course, I know that you think you are. The fact is your eyes are bright, your cheeks are flushed, you are conscious of your beauty; that hasn't been forgotten for-gotten for a moment, and you are conscious of my consciousness of It. The little girl I met without any umbrella over her in the storm the other day wasn't conscious of anything very much. Be frank, now! Aren't you having a rather good time? I am. It's all turned out just as I dreamed it would. I should have been terribly ter-ribly disappointed if you had not brought me a pale face and dark circles under your eyes." He looked at her half laughing, and she sat stunned by his words. "Here's the same soup, now," ho continued, as the waiter uncovered the little tureen, "because "be-cause you said you liked it. Isn't it nice to have some one remember what you like?" "No, no, it's horrible all of it I don't know why I sit here and listen.' "Oh, that's perfectly natiual, as natural as your coming here to tell. Of. course, you have to say it's horrible. They all do. That's part of it." "Who?" Dulaney laughed. "All those like you all the little novices. Every year thousands crop up." "And I am only one of many, then?" she asked, paling to the lips. "Of course." "And you bring them here, just as you did me?" "Oh, not thousands! But if I did you wouldn't care. You said just now you hated me." "So I do." "Then, of course, you don't care about the other women?" "No, I don't!" Dulaney laid down his spoon. "What a warm throbbing, maddening little thing you are!" he said; "and, oh, my!" glancing at her plate, "what an appetite! You've eaten all your soup!" Louise looked guiltily at her plate. 'We'll have to have a beefsteak," said Dulaney, Du-laney, "for a girl like you!" "You are making fun of me. You haven't any , -rz ' ' "T reverence for me you despise, me!" 'she ex- Bl claimed. fll "Why, because I suggested a beefsteak? Let H it be a bird, then." H "Don't, please don't!" She wrung her hands. B can't bear flB "Oh, come now! Aftor all, why be so serious? BH You have enough of that at home. What do you H suppose I havo in this envelope?" He took one jB from his pocket. JBB "I don't know." B "A matinee tickets B "For whom?" fl "Oh, a wretched little girl. She's eating her B lunch now, but when she gets through she's going B to be whirled to the theatre in a cab. She is B going to sit through the performance, which she B will enjoy very much, because it's the kind B wretched little girls like, and when it's over she's B going to find the man she hates standing on the B sidewalk waiting for her." B "But I'll have to be home!" exclaimed Louise, B forgetting herself. B "No, because your husband is going to the B theatre tonight; he and a whole party of men, fl Ave in a box." B "How do you know?" fl "A bird told me. They expect me, but I'm go- fl ing to be called out of town. Now, look mo jfl squarely in the eyes and smile." fl B "Try.N There, now, I knew you could!" M One hour before Louise would not have be- lieved that smile possible, but being in his pres- B mee made a wondeiful difference. She had no B idea whatever that the devil was enjoying him- B self at her expense. She had always imagined B him given up to malicious, repellent things, not B knowing in the least that he was engaging and B When she came out of the theatre a few hours B later she found Dulaney awaiting her as he had B said, but she discovered at a glance that he was jB an altogether different man. Instead of being de- B lighted to see her, he looked rather coldly at jB her, and with the utmost indifference told her that business matteis had sprung up which would B prevent his spending the evening with her. Ho B then placed her in a cab, and, remarking that he fl hoped she had enjoyed thee performance, lifted , B his hat to her and closed the door. B The next afternoon at the club Dulaney took B out her note that he had received in the morning, B glanced through it, smiled and replaced it affec- B tionately in his pocket. B "What is it?" asked a friend, who was observ- B ing him. B "What is what?" B "You were smiling rather contentedly." B "I was thinking," said Dulaney, "how exactly B alike the inexperienced women are. A lunch, a B bottle of wine, a little flattery, a little ridicule, B a matinee ticket these to be followed by sudden, B apparent indifference, loss of interest, etc., fl and " He threw up his hands. il "She is yours?" IB "Exactly!" IB They laughed. JB IB "But how can it be possible," he asked Louise B a few hours later, "that yesterday you hated me B and today you love me so much?" I "I don't know; I don't understand it; I hate fl myself for it, but I do, I do!" B Dulaney caressed her head, but wondered at B the same time how it would all be with a man if B the husbands attended to the lunches and cabs l and wine and theatre tickets, and rather con- I gratulated himself that they didn't. I When he lifted her face to kiss her lips they I weie hot and passionate and swollen, just as he fl knew they would bo, and very sweet. G. Vere I Tyler, in Town Topics. fl |