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HomeMy WebLinkAboutLucknow Sentinel, 1892-02-26, Page 6,e. *t1l. bitevitaltle 'glib* world ain't what it uster be," olciesta eittler cried, "sffletit's so. b'gosh, as lye kin see," Hie satellites replied. seind,then they bossed the job a spell— ; UM -had a -plenty tiwo— And the world. Jogged not so well *kin their ancient pro. * * 4* 7 'Tviagever-thwirr oldagomust vex Its Soul at new learned tricks, 70r, ere it passed in its checks 'Most every creature 'deka. A BARITONE'S DEVOTION Olt. A TALE OF SUNNY ITALY. CHAPTER %H. A TROUBLND NIGHT. Ali, Love! but a day, Ane the world is changed The sun's away, And tae bird estranged; The wind has dropped, And the sky deranged; Summer has stopped. R. BROWIffNG. Francesca kept up bravely all through Abe long hours of that Whitsun Monday; slik dinner she talked a little more than ;foal to cover CaxIo's silence, but it was hard work, and she gave a sigh of relief When at length the ordeal was over, and ho was was free to go away alone. Carlo stood Up to open the door for her, and as she paased himshelooked up into his eyes and smiled ; but once Within the friendiy shel- ter of the drawing -room her own fill. .1 with tears. She would have given much to run- up to her room and have a good ors ; that was out of the question, however, tor she Alould not plead a headache when by so deing,site should lose Gerlo's good night. • The sound of the dining -room door timing snide her beat a hasty retreat leen the bon slight ; the stood in the aliade, and made anthough she were looking out of the • withloVs; while she hurriedly dried her eyen, '#)*, not for the world would she have been anght crying.. Mr. Britton, tootinginto re'tifia;',deecried the,,,sliin 'figure in its and 'oatinetoWard her. 11*qetVr4U.'-q1S.a said, '! if you will inkme the lazieat old oncle in the Insihg to hid yougoad-night. udget,ef letters; which I shall get' better in m3'• inn!: rOoin,"'; Ont4Oki4eally• see' to them now ?" shb st!(,WhY., it is not half a holiday if ***follows you here." , 014014ngdn her voice made him look at Hessav that she was eeeellected that Carlo had eeltspoken to °her through dinner, and toink leaped to the conclusion that rehad been a quarrel between the k, "1 have along letter from Kate, which perhaps You'll like to see," he said. "She • ainfiL0lareseeinn.getting, on grandly at the • North Cape. Tjleir know nothing of your betrothal mity 1 tell thein the news when., • I enieser this , , • "1 thitikt Will tell 'them myself," she 77*W-her Color -deepening a little.- " I will :▪ # in a iLflU tO-morrow, if I may.",, The ,tmais welled up into, her eyes again; LO turned hastily and drew his attention to the distant view Of Vesuvius,- with erim- nori,flamei leaping up, and summer lightning brightening the sky in the background. But . Mr.' Witten was toe fond of her to be put aside • he began to feel really anxious albeit her &Mire. ",.Dear little *me," he said, gently, you must forgive an old uncle's anxiety, but are you quite happy in your betrothal? 0/- Are you quite sure that you have chosen the happiest life ?" "Iamsure that I havechosentheonly man in the werld whom I could love," she said, recovering herself, and looking up into her uncle's face with such a sweet, bright, love -lit smile that he could only inwardly "retest that no man living was worthy of her. "Vet something is troubling you to- night," he said, uneasily. " 'Yes " she said, her lips quivering; 4g there something troubling Carlo '• heia going to talk it over with fathers and—and 1am not quite sures how father will take 111. "s - Mr. Britton looked grave. "Dear child, of one thing you may at least be sure," he said, gently; "your father cares for nothing but your happiness." The words fitted in only too well with her own forebodings. "Oh, Why will people ,think of nothing ' but -that ?" she exclaimed. "What is hap- piness to me when Carlo is in the question? Uncle"—the looked up at him appealingly —" promise me that whatever happens you will never think him to blame; there are • things no outsider can understan. Promise me that you will always be his friend." "Well, he must be a cold-hearted person who could refuse such a petition from such lips," he said, stooping to kiss her. "Don't be unhappy, dear little Fran; there never yet was a betrothal which was all hunshine. Wait a little, and your clouds will disperse. Nine o'clock! I must be off to my, desk." If sleep refused to visit either Carlo or Francesca that night, it was equally cruel to Captain Britton. He tossed and turned until the bedclothes were in a state of chaotic confusion; he tried' the Window open, he tried the window shut; he tried a light, he tried total darkness; he paced the room, he counted alternate black and white sheep going through a gate, he ate bread, he smoked a cigar—in fact, he tried all the remedies for sleeplessness he had ever heard of. At last he give up all thoughts of rest for that night, and/ began to wonder how his neighbor was faring; the young Italian's face haunted him. Then he began to think of poor little Francesca, doomed through his angry com- mand never to see her lover again. No ; at least he would yield on that poiet, he would go to see Carlo after breakfast, would apologise to him for his hastiness, and permit him to come once more to the Casa Bella and take leave of Franceeca. 'This idea gave the poor captain a little relief, but he groaned aloud as he thought of all the grief in store for his child. At length he heard the Welcome sounds of life in the house. The night was over; Rosetta was banging the door mat vigor- onsly againat the porch; Dino Was tramp- ing up and down the marble passages, fetching and carrying. Presently there was the refreshing sound of the rap at :his door, and the aervant's familiar summons, "Half -past seven, signor, and a fine morn - in." Vhe captaib rose more promptly than • A !usual, unlocked his door, and took in his hot-water can; on the lid there lay an en- velope directed to him in Carlos hand- writing. He tore it open • with a sense of sickening anxiety. \ What was it that brought a sudden mist before hia eyes? Only a short, manly letter a letter of apology 4rom the man whom he .. shadswrongeds Carlo had forestalled him, and the 'letter which had coetethe writer so much cost the, reader yet more. There was very little in it, with ita careful 'English and neat foreign' writing; but the words had come straight from the heart, and they went straight as an arrow to the heart of the captain. The Brittons, though so long resident in Italy, kept English hours and breakfasted all together at 8 o'clock. Meanwhile, in the study, the owner of the Pilgrim was trying to do all in his power for his pretty niece. He had guessed, both from her face and his brother's depres- sion, that there must have been ti quarrel with young Donati _on the previous , night. He hoped he mightbe able to set things straight again before he left, but hp bad no . idea how serious was the state of affairs. "Look here, John," he said, closing, the door of the study, "it lute just struck me, why shouldn't you all have a trip in the yacht now she is here? , There will be - plenty of room for you and the girls; and young Donati, and a couple of other friends besides'if you like. Now do you think of it, for it quite vexes me that the Pilgrim should be down here all to no purpose.' "You are very good," said Captain Brit- ton, hesitatiligly ; "for myself there is nothing 1 should•so much like; indeed, I must get away somewhere; I feel quite knocked up with this tiresome affair." "What affair ?" "Why, I meant to have told you all about it to -day. Poor little Francesca's engagement is broken off !" "Dear me! how is that? You don't mean to say he is tired of her already ?" "No, that's the worst of it; the fellow is desperately in love with her still, but I have had to put a stop to it. I never was so disappointed in a. man in my life." a grave affair," said Mr. Britton, thoughtfully, " for I fncer little .Fran's heart is quite given away. • S "That is the i miserable part of ,its • I Wish she had never seen Diihati ! I wish I had never' come to this place !" and the poor captain sighed heavily. "Bub have you • not; 'perhaps, been a trifle hasty ?" said his brother, remember; ing the promise he had inade to Francesca on the previous night. "Though starting with plenty of insular prejudice against the man, .1 wae very much struck with him yes- terday. There ' is something noble about his face. Surely he can't be guilty of any great effense.?" . "He is guilty of the greatest offence pos- sible ; he is,guiIty of an utter want of com- mon sense,' said the captain, angrily. "1 thought we had made half an Englishman of -him, but I might have known that with his Italian blood and his foolish tadical ideas we should, sooner -or later, fall foul of each other." . • "You are surely not going to break off the engagement because of political differ- ences ?" said Mr. Britton; getting quite on to the wrong tack. "Mere opinions are nothing to me," said the captain, "but when the fellow acts— acts upon kis. insane ideas—comes to me and deliberately tellme that he has taken a course which will make his marriage with Francesca out of the question for an indefin- ite time what can you expect me to say ?" "1 don't wonder you were Very much vexed about it." i " Vexed ! -I was never in such a heat n my life.", ',Wrong as the fellow was, I am bound to apologize to him for what I said. I'll not shirk that, though I do believe the mere sight of him will put me out of temper again." "You think there is no hope, then, of setting matters straight? Surely you would submit to almost anything rather than put Francesca to so much pain. What if her lover is a little high-flown in his notions? Anything is better than callousness and indifference." , " I can't explain it all to you, for did I do so I should break Donati's confidence ; but soon you will see for yourself what line he has taken up, and then you will see that my anger is at least excusable. To permit the engagement to go son is out of the ques- tion while he still keeps to his resolution; Miss Claremont, I am sure, would agree with me. He is deliberately choosing a dareer which is bound to degrade him—he is taking the high -road to helL" , The captain was working himself up into wrathful indignation again. Mr. Britton could only imagine that Donati had avowed his , connection with some secret political society'such as he believed to exist in Italy. He saw that it was useless to attempt any further remonstrance. "Then, if this is really quite an end,', he said, unhesitatingly, "would Nt not be doubly desirable that you should 11 leave the neighborhood for - a time? Take a month's cruise in the Pilgrim. There is no chance of my using her again till August" , "1 wish you could have been with ,us too," said the captain, with a sigh, "Must you really go off at once ?" "1 must be eff this evening; there's no help for it," said Mr. Britton. "1 would give much to be with you, but this busi- ness will bear no delay. I feel like a school- boy cheated of his holiday. But look, let us decide this matter while Captain Gra- 1 I horn is here. When would • you like to ' start ?" f "To -morrow. No; to -morrow Count Carossa dines With us; but on Thursday - 1 really think we might etart on Thurday. It's very good of you, George, to propose it You've no idea what a relief it will be to me, for we are such near neighbors to Donati that it would be very ' unpleasant to i be here. . , " Well, that's settled, then," said Mr. Britten. "I'll go and tell Graham to make preparation for you. He will be enchanted a to have you on board." t CHAPTER XIII. Captain Britton had seldom felt more ill at ease than when he walked that morning i up to the door of the Villa Bruno. A sallow, wrinkled old servant, with a gay scarlet neckerchief, was polishing the door- a handle • she nodded to him cheerfully as he approached. "Good -morning to you signor ; walk in. You'll find the master in the salotto. " She made no sign of leaving her door- a handle and duster, and indeed the captain f had long age asked leave to walk into his neighbor'a house without ceremony, and the Signora Donati and Carlo, though liking his unheralded intrusion, had been far too courteous to return a negative to the tactless requgat Recrossed the vestibule, and was about to enter the =lotto, when a sound of voices within made him pause, heeitate a moment, aod then go instead intcran adjoining room He had recognized the voice of Guido Donati, and gueesed correctly that the uncle had driven over in hot haste from Naples on learninghis nephew's startling plan. That he was exceedingly annoyed could be gathered from the vehement and extra- ordinarily rapid utterance, which reminded the captain of Carlo's tirade on the pre- ceding night. At last the violent harangue came to an end, and Carlo's voice was heard. It was low but dietinet, and the captain could not avoid hearing the words: "1 am sorry to vex you, uncle, but my mind is made up." "Madonna Santissima ! it is mede up, i is it," said the other, furiously. ' Then mine, too, is made up; and I am, sorry to vex you but not o penny of mine shall you ever inherit. Do you understand ?" There was a silence, but Captain Britton could well imagine the expressive gesture which Carlo would make. " Diavolo !" cried the uncle. "You take it calmly. You think you will live comfortably enough on that voice of yours, and laugh at the rich old uncle. You will tell a different tale a few years hence, my fine fellow, whenyou have a wife and chil- dren to support.', "1 than never marry," said Carlo, speak- ing more shortly than the captain had ever before heard an Italian speak. "What !", cried Uncle Guido. "Then you have thrown over your betrothal for this mad scheme? An apoplexy on you! I'll have no more to do with such a fool ;" and with that he strode out of the room. The captain only -waited till he was sure the angry man bad really gone, and then he knocked at the door of the sa,lotto. Nothing but a conscientious sense of duty could have induced him to face at that moment. his guest of the previous evening • but there was a certain rugged loyalty about Frances - en's father, and he walked sturdily into the room; bracing himself up to make the neces- sary apologyeeesCarlo was standing at the side of the window; the sunlight fell full upon him, and revealed to the captain a very different face to the one 'which had haunted him throegh the night—a face worn with suffering, but strong and resolute, spite of its haggard look. "1 beg your pardon for intruding, but the servant told me to come in," began the captain, approaching him. Carlo turned with an articulate excla- mation, the blood rush his face, and a look of distress dawnedis eyes ; he was tired out with all he had een through, and felt wholly unequal to another stormy dia- cussion. But he welcomed his visitor with native ceremoniousness, betraying only by addi- tional courtesy any remembrance of the quarrel. The captain rementbered the letter of the morning, and all his kindly feelings returned to him, as he said, heartily: "Carlo, I have come to apologize for the words which escaped me yesterday. I regret them more than I can tell you. You had every excuse for your anger.' Carlo grasped his hand. 'No, no," he said quickly, I was very much to blame. I am glad, sir—it is a great relief, to me— that last night was not our parting. I am grateful to you for coming here to day." I must also apologize for having inad- vertently overheard some Of your uncle's words," said the captain, who felt very un- eomfortable when he remembered his invo- luntary eavesdroppine. "1 knew Uncle Guido would be very much against this plan," said Carlo; and as he spoke he threw himself wearily into a chair facing Captain Britton's. The captain was struck by the look of ex- treme physical exhaustion both in the face and the attitude; he began to realize the difference between his own physique and that of the Italian, and faintly to under- stand that Carlo had a greater capacity for feeling pain than he had himself. "Did you realize that this scheme of yours—this acheme which 1 still most strongly disapprove—would cost you so dear ?" he asked abruptly. ‘ Did you think your uncle would have disinherited you ?" "1 didn't think about the money at all," said Carlo, "but I knew he would be annoyed." • '" But does this make no change in your feeling? Are you willing to lose every single thing you possesa, and even toeforfeit the respect of your friends, for the sake of this plan?" 0 " Yes," he said, simply ; " I am willing, air." When he had spoken he let his head drop wearily on to his hand; he was calm with the calm of blank bereavement; for, like the princesa in the poem, he had found that "Not to fear because all is taken Is the loneliest depth of human pain. The captain sighed. He was not angry now, only very much annoyed at the im- possibility of inducing one bereft ofcom- mon sense to see reason. " You make light of the loss of income," he said at length; but how will you fare supposing you fall ill ?" Carlo looked up with anodd sort of smile. " Well, you will think me unpractical," he said; "but I have never been ill in my ife, and I had not considered that "paliti- bility. However, my salary is a tolerably air one for a novice, aid, if the worst comes to the worst, there are always the hos- pitala." "Carlo," broke in the captain, " I ca.,n't bear to think of one who has led the life you have led going out into • such a world! What :would your poor mother have said to t 4" thing,„and there are shocks which it will not son:rive. "There is one other thing I wish to say," said Captain Britton, rising, "and that is, that if you with you may have one more interview with Francesca." Carlo sought eagerlyat this boon, and the captain euggested that he should. return -witichita to Casa Bella. - "Does she know of —" he hesitated how to put it, "of your decision ?" "1 have not spoken to her about it, but I know she infers it," said the captain, rather eoldly. Carlo paced the room for a minute, strug- gling with his emotion; he was not sure whether he had strength to meet Francesca and tell her with his own lips that all was over between them. "If you wish to see her we had better come at once," said the captain. "My brother is unexpectedly called back to Eng- land, and we have much to see to to -day.,, He was vexed that Donati did not show more gratitude for the concession he had made, for he was a man who liked to be thanked, and it had not been easy for him to retract what he had first said. Some- thing in, his tone stung Carlo ; he drew himself together. " Ebbene, signor," he said, gravely, forgetting his English, as he 'often did when nsuch inoved, and recover- ing it with an effort. "If you will, permit it, I will accompany you." They walked away from the Villa Bruno in silence, Carlo thinking of the captain': words, "We have much to see -to to -day. How calmly he classed the supreme struggle of his life, the parting that was death to him, with the Trivial households, commotion caused by Mr. Britton's journey. But once back in his own house the cap- tain's kinder feelings returned; he took Carlo to the Rose -room, then held out his hand cordially. "This had better be our final parting," he said, "1 leave home on Thursday. Good-bye, Carlo. Should you even now see fit to give up this foolish scheme I should be quite willing to reconsider matters." "My mind is made up, sir," said Carlo, turning sadly away. "So it appears. Well, I will send Fran- cesca. to you." He closed the door; And Carlo with a choking feeling in his throat, looked round the dear, familiar room, the very untidiness of which breathed of Francesca. The Dying Gladiator " for Clare reposed peril- ously on a shaky pile of books; a kitten was worrying a ball of red wool on the sofa; and a sock in process of knitting, which he knew had been 'intended for him, lay at a little distance on the floor. He turned to the window and looked out at his old friend Vesuvius with its cloud of smoke, and at the glimpses of blue sea visible here and there between the trees. Then with an aching consciousness that these were left to him, but that he should never more stand in that little room, he turned and looked round it, as though he wished to stamp forever on his mind all its girlish decorations, all its familiar details. But the sound of footsteps without roused him and dispelled his calm; the door opened, and Francesca came quickly forward to greet him, she 'always entered a room more quickly, yet more gracefully than other peoplesbut new she almost ran toward him; she wanted him not to notice her wan, tear -stained face. " If, however, in one sense love is blind, in another it is all -observant ; in one glance he had read all, and in that glance there came to him the sharpest of his suffering. Stilling the sobs that rose in his throat,he held her in a long, close embrace, but to speak was impossible; and though there was comfort and rapture in her presence yet there was also anguishwhich threatened to unman him. At length he put her gently from him, and turned away that he might fight down his emotion. For a few minutes there was silence, then he came and sat beside her on the Sofa, and, putting his arm round her, drew her head down on to his shoulder. "Carina," he said, and the mellow bary- tone voice was firm, yet terribly sad, "your father would not let me see you last night, but to -day he allows me this one more meet- ing with you. He said he had not spoken to you, but that you knew what had passed between us." -- "Yes," she said, her tears raining down quietly; "1 knew it must be so when I heard you go." They talked sometimes in English, some- times in Italian, as had been their custom ever since childhood. ".Darling," he said, tenderly, "7 am bound to obey your father's decree; there conld be no right betrothal for us without his consent, and so you stand free once more. You must try, carina, not to let these three short weeks spoil your life ; you will try, my own, my darling, for it would break my heart if I thought I had ruined your happiness. . " Love ought not to Weaken us," she said tremulously, for in her heart she felt that apart from Carlo she should be like a rudderless boat. "These three weeks Ought to give me courage for the rest" There was, indescribable sadness in the last two words. "Ah, darling 1" cried Carlo, passionately, "don't speak of your beautiful young life like that !" And then he was silent again. All the strength and ardor of their mutual love seemed to- rise up against the captain's decree ; if for the present they were fain to obey it and to part, yet hopes for the future would rise ; perhaps each intuitively knew what was in the other's heart, but no words passed between them; indeed, when Carlo did speak it was almost ae if he wished to reason away any brightness which Might hover oyer their future. "You see, my darling," he said, "even should this immediate danger no longer keep Carlo's face lighted up as if the suggestion mm had given him some uneePected comfort. "At least our dead understand us," he aid, fervently; "they know that I am rying to keep my promise." The captain felt that his small stock of i patience would not last much longer, and i Carlo, glancing at him, saw that their part. ng, though peaceable, would be final; he knew intuitively that although the captain had taken hack some of his harsh .worda, he till regarded him as at any rate a self - deceived deceiver—a man who, under the c cloak of duty, veiled his craving for change and excitement—or, at best, as an enthusi- ast who could but be despised for giving up c olid realities for feoLsh dreams. Their riendship was at an end; for though love in undying, friendship is quite a different e from you, even if Nita no longer needed e, I shall have cut myself Off from you ope ess y , we must facc that. I shall by that time, if I succeed at all, be to the world Donati the singer, and your father Would certainly not choose me for his son - n -law. Then, again, Uncle Guido has dire, nherited me, so that if I gave up the stage I should be penniless and more or less ue- fitted for work as an advocate." " Has:he indeed disinherited you? Oh, Carlino, what troubles you have had ' Don't let me be another, darling. See, I'll not ry any more; we must think of what is still eft us.' The worat they can do to us is to keep us -apart; they can't kill our love, they an't check our prayers for each other; the best part, the highest part, no one can med- dle with." Hp held her closely, morteuring tender • a Italian words of endearment; and the clock on the mantel-picce ticked en inexorably., measuring all too quickly the time which, when • they were parted, would move with leaden feet. Rosalind should surely have eaid "parting lovers" rather than a "thief going to the gallows" when asked, " Who gello_pes Time withal?" And still they lingered' Over the sweet, unwrita.ble talk till the clock relentlessly atruck 12, and roused them to the recollection of the outer world. Then Francesca dreiv off her engagenient ring, and placed it in his hand. " There Carlo," she said, steadily, "I give you back thring and your troth, and I will obey my father,and will neither hear from you nor write toyou ; but more than that no woman can peomise, for love is nal made and unmade to order." Carlo put on the ring, which from a token of union had now become changed to a token of separation. He was too heart -broken to speak, and after a long pause it was Fran- cesca who at length broke the silence. Tell me a little more of the sort, of life you shall live," she said, gently. So he told her all that he knew, which was little enough; how he should live with the Merlinos, try to win his sister's love. study hard for his profession, do his best to be a credit to Piale. "And you ?" he asked. "There will be new neighbors for you at Villa Bruno but it is hardly likely that it will be used by another occupant except during the sum- mer menthe.' "Ah ! will it be let ? " asked Francesca., her eyes filling. " Well, I hope we shall not know the people who take it. For the rest, darling, you can picture me as living the old life, going into Naples on Sunday. teaching Silryl, rowing with Floresta,no. But for this next month we are to go for a eruies in the Pilgrim, and perhaps next year I may go to England." " You would like to be with Clare?" " Yes ; though I suppose father will not like me to tell her now of these three weeks, and it will be hardthat she should never know. Carlo, why should not you go to see Clare when you are in Eugland ?" He shook his head. "She would disapprove too strongly of my change of professions," he said; "and it is not a change that I can explain to all the world. Then, too, she lives in your un- cle's house, and after what has happened he would hardly care to have me there. " Uncle George likes you Very much." said Francesca, quickly. , Carlo did not reply, but he thought differently. It was not then, however, that he could care to discuss so trifling a matter; time was passing, and he knew that Capt.. Britton must already be expecting him to go. The thought broke down all his self- control; his calmness gave place to a, passionate outburst of love and grief, which recalled to Francesca his sudden change in . the belvedere when he had first asked for ,her love. She clung to him. now as she bad done then, but it was not of love and present bliss which she spoke. . "Patience, Carlo mzio patience, she whispered. "It is, after all, that which we need." " The word brought back to him the recol- lection of his dying father, and calmed the tumult of feeling. He held her sweet face between his hands, looked long into those pure eyes, and grew strong once more. " Pazienza P he murmured, clasping her again in his arms. "God have you in His keeping." At 'the gr te of Casa Bela, Mr. George Britton, much to his dismay, chanced to en- counter the owner of Villa Bruno, quite the last nen he would have chosen to meet. All that he could do was to assume that nothing had happened, and to bid him a courteofte farewell. He held out his hand. Carlo turned upon him a face which haunted the kindly Englishman for many months to come. But, even in his anguish, he could not be otherwise than courteous ;- a look of effort passed over his deathly fea- tures, and— " With pale lips That seemed to motion for a smile in vain," he said, as he bowed over the Englishman's hand, "Buon viaggio, signor A rivederci CHAPTER XIV. THE NEW BARITONE. " &hall spheres hold small fires, But he loved largely, as a man can Thee Who, baffled in his love, dares live his life. Accept the ends which God loves for his own. /-s\ And lift a constant aspect." —E. B. nnowernee. • It was a. hot summer morning, and two s ragged little. Neapolitans were sauntering along the Chiaja ; the elder had flung his arm caressingly round the °there neck ; the younger held, in his hand a ragged cap full of cherries, from which they were eating contentedly as they walked. A carriaen rolled past them, and both boys looked up with sharp, eager eyes. - " ,Graa Dio !" cried one. .“ Look yonder goes Comerio, the singer." "'Tis he himself," said the other, with a look of interest ; "and in a vile temper, tee; his brow is black as a starless night!' "They say he beats his wife," said the, elder boy with a laugh, which was only checked by the offer of a ripe red cherry which hie brother held up to hie mouth. Meanwhile the carriage had gone,by, and Comerio was before long, set donwn at the entrance to Palazzo Forti. He paid the driver, and then, with no very amiable ex- pression, made his way up the long stone , • staircase and rang the bell. A maid servant, whom he had tried un- successfully to bribe on 'former oceasiona, opened thedoor to him. , "78 Signor Merlino at the theatre ?" he asked, anxious to know whether the coast was clear. "Yes, signor," replied the girL " What message can I give him ?" I will give it to Signora Merlino," said the visitor, preparing to enter. The maid showed all her teeth in a merry smile. " But the signora is still at rehearsal." " Oren !" exclaimed Comerio, impa- tiently, "7 might have known. Well, I will come in then, and wait till they return" (To be Contemned.) New York Herald In Poker Parlance -- Father (at foot of stairs) -13111, didn't you hear me call you two hours ago? Bill— Yes; bat I can't see you, father. " Wells then, Plhcome up and, raise you." Chicago has had a fire iti'ene of hr sky- sera.pers, but as yet none of the astron- omers hive' discovered any serious damages,. Tho plinetts escaped with vuoltigiiii4* s-