Lucknow Sentinel, 1892-03-18, Page 6A BARITONE'S DEVOTION ;
OR, ,A. TALE OF' SUNNY ITALY. '
Si▪ lently he walked back with the child to
t430 Palazzo, Ferti, found that Nita was still
' mat-Serrisiite, and went to --Reek' -Entice,
ile might spend his lest evening with els
• friend. Between ten and eleven Enrico
• returned with him, and th'e two made their
way together up the long staircase.
"1 Will come in and see your friendly
• Nnglishman once more, said Enrico, "and
will say good-bye to your sister, if she has
,esetmeback."
ier But Nita and her husband were still out,
and Sardoni had gone to the San Carlino ;
Carlo, however, fa,neyinghe heard his voice
in the mkt, entered quickly, receiving a
severe shock when he saw that Gomez was
not, as he had fancied, talking to the tenor.
Seated at a table, facing the Spaniard, was
- a man with a high, rounded forehead, from
which the closely cut hair receded so much
that in prbfile the effed was most curious,
so large was the expellee of pallid face, so
small the expanse of dark, silky waves. The
nose was hooked,. the expression very quiet',
the eyes cold, but capable of lighting up,.
for as soon asthe stranger became aware of
Carlo's presence a gleam kindled in them,
and turning to Gomez, he said politely, but
with a smile which made Carlo shudder,
"Prey introduce me to my rival, that I may
have the pleasure of congratulating him on
his great success."
• Perhape," said Gomez, with his usual
stolid" gravity, "perhaps Signor Donati
does not care to be introduced to so formid-
able a rival."
, The speech; which had been intended to
put Carlo in a still more awkward predica-
ment, signally failed, for with ready
courtesy he seized it and turned it to his
advantage. •
"As a rival I decline to be introduced to
Signor Comerio," he said, in the pleasantest
• manner imaginable. "There can be no
•question of rivalry between a veteran and a
novice ; but as a fellow -artist I am happy
to make his acquaintance."
• He bowed. Comerio, with hatred in his
heart and a smile on his lips, bowed in
reply; the two men exchanged a few re-
marks on Musical matters, and before long
Comerio took. leave, owning himself beaten.
• There was undoubtedly something inDonati's
imperturbable courtesy and fearleris honesty
--which baffled his malice. •
•CHAPTER XVIII.
FRANCESCA'S AUTUMN.,
"Tell me all about it over aga-n, tano, ; I think you have made a•mistake in
• liosheg to be a, fisherman. You should
avebeen, a professional tale -teller. Tell it
me all over again from the very beginning."
• The old. fishertnan pulled his red Phrygiaii
-cap lower over his wrinkled forehead, shook
back his grizzed locks, glanced up at his
• brown sail to see that all was well,_then
looked 'across at the sweet, eager face oppo-
site him, and felt willing enough to obey
;the requeste • • -
" Gran Dio ! he is aa good as a piece of
bread ! " exclaimed the old fisherman.
44 Who but he would have thought of cora-
• lbw all the way out here to fetch a shabby
• eld fellow like me, and giving me a fine
. plane at the theatre, where I could see as
well as those who carry a heavy purse, and
ate too fine to walk on foot, and spend their
. days in idlenees-? He came, signorina,
• bringing with him the little boy, his
'nephew."
Was he looking well ?" asked Francesca,
• still keeping her •face turned away. ,
";Ebbene signorina! he was gra,ve and
quiet, doubtless thinking of the evening;
and, now I come to think of his face, I re-
• mernber it was browner than it was wont to
be;• he had lost his calor, being shut up so
much studying." Boredom° could hardly
help smiling to himself, because he thciught
• he had given these reasons with such an ad-
mirable airof conviction. "But except
for that lie wakt jest like himself, signorina,
just like. .He would take an oaf on the
way back to Naples, as if he were back in
the old times, and I was rowing him to
school once more, as I did for many a year
•n the warm weather. And then'when in
the evening I saw him stand on the stage,
with all the people praising him, and he
lookingso fine in his velvet dress and his
sword—then'I did feel proud to think that
only a few hours back he had taken my oar
from me that I might rest a bit. He
couldn't have treated me better, signorina,
if I'd been his own father."
"And the people applauded him a great
.deal?" asked Fraheesca.
•" Cappgri you may believe me, signor-
ina, the noiseenade my head ache for days
'after. Hove he bore it, I don't kno but
afterward, when they called for hi
came before the curtain looking as modest
and natural as if he were but just an
ordinary man in his own home, and bowed
as though he were pleased that we had
found pleasure in hisacting. And when I
went to thank him and take leave I came
upon him just at the stage door, and he
said he wanted a breath of fresh air, for the
theatre had been nearly as hot as the crater
of Vesuvius; and he walked With me down
to the Piliero, till I could have thought he
had been a boy again; he seemed so like
himself that I could hardly believe 'twas
he that had been Valentinoa few minutes
since, with all the house crying over his
death."
"Then he acted very well ?"
• "He just made it real, signorina ! Gran
Dio 1 can never forget his face as he
drove back the devil with the cross, step-
ping mit boldly before the soldiers as
though •he feared naught. ''Twas fine to see
the old devil cringing and backing ! I can
tell you, signorina, that I came away that
night believing in the old faith once more.
There's more in the cross than they would
wish to have,us think down at our club in
Francesca'thought she would have liked
to tell her father that story, but Carlo's
name had never passed between• them since
her betrothal had been ended, and she knew
that she would not be the first to break the
silence.
Comforted and yet saddened by her talk
with the old fisherman, she was set down
on the beach and made her way theolfgh
the vineyard to the familiar olive garden,
" Why, who .can be here?" exclaimed
Sibyl. " Someone talking with father.
Look !"
k'rancesc heart leaped into her mouth,
for she caught sight through the trees of a
Panama hat exactly like Carlo's. In
an instant a hundred wild hopes
and conjectures had passed through
her mind, to be all too quickly
dispelled, for, as they drew nearer, Captain,:
Britton came down the path to meet them,
and she saw that tne Panama. hat belonged
to Count Carossa. For a momentshe could
not help hating him ; what right had he to
take Carlo's house, to dress like him, to
1kd�thtthT labia was forever
• associated in her mind with the day of her
be ? It was all she could do to
greet him as usual.
"1 find Count Carossa is going in to
Naples this evening to the ball," said
Captain Britton, "80 I have offered him a
seat in our carriage. What time had you
thought of starting, Fran ?"
Francesca had thought of going early and
returning early, but quickly realized that
'Jount Carossa would probably stay late,
so she proposed that they should go an
hour later than she had first intended, and,
without being discourteous, managed to seem
Perfectly indifferent as to the arrangement.
The count was piqued by her manner;
she was ehe first pretty foreigner he had
ever met who was not willing to -flirt with
him. and he was determined to win her.
She was obliged to promise him a dance, to
stand by and look polite while her father
invited him •to dinner that evening, and,
later on even to accept some white azaleas
which he brought with him from the Villa
Bruno, not at all understanding that the
mere sight of them would recall to her the
image of her absent lover, of whose existence
the count had no idea.
When she came into the room Enrico was
at the far end, talking to some Americans
whom Francesca knew by sight. She felt
almost certain that he saw her, and waited
in trembling hope for his approach; but he
never came, and before long she was sur-
rounded by 'a little throng of worshippers,
and her card was speedily filled. When
• Count Carona had written his name there
was °lily one vacant place for the waltz
which followed the cotillon.
"Will you not let me have this one, too?"
he asked, beseechingly.
She avoided his eager brown eyes, and
•glanced quickly in Enrico's direction. He
was making one of those profound, avvk-
ward-lookipg bows of kills to a pretty little
Neapolitan, and she felt a conviction that
he did not mean to ask her to dance. It
was hard to be avoided by the one man in
the room whom she desired to talk to, and
persecuted by the one she most wished to
avoid ! She felt angry with Enricci and
angry with the count, and though she sel-
dom asserted herself, her spirit rose now,
and she said, quickly • ..
" Thal* you; I shall not dance after the
cotillion." •
"You are quite right; it is a• tiring
affair. But you will permit me to sit oat
with you, signorina ?!
• I wish his eyes were green, or gray, or
anything but brown," thought Francesca to
herself, naughtily. "1 wish he was Feench,
or German or anything but Italian Then
aloud: " No, I don't think I shall make
any promises. But perhaps I shall sit out
with the partner I happen to choose in the
cotillon. We Will see how things arrange
themselves." •
All this time Enrico had watched her
critically? At first he had intended to ask
her to dance, and to write and give Carlo a
faithful and particular account of every
word she had said: But when he saw her
surrounded by admirers, and dispensing her
favors with the .unconscious dignity of a
little queen, then something like resentment
began to stir in his heart, and he wondered,
whether, after all, she deserved Carlo's de-
votion whether it was even remotely likely
that she would be faithful to him.
He wee angry with her for looking so lovely
and for smiling so charmingly; with all his
philosophy he never once asked himself the
question, how, was she to help it? He was
angry with her for being admired by other
men and angry with her• for looking hapPy
while she danced, and hugged his old con-
viction to his heart. "There is no 'sixth
thing as love in the World ! all is; selfishness
under the sun." And yet, though he pro-
fessed to hold firmly to his creed, he longed
to -night to see it falsified; he •would have
liked, at any rate,, to think that his friend
and the beautiful English girl .were those
strange exceptions which, according to the
proverb, prove the rule.
• At length the cotillion was danced, and
the time arrived when Francesca, the ac-
knowledged belle of the evening, was seated
in the middle of the room with a mirror in
her hand, while those who were eager to be
her partners went up one by one behind her,
and looked over her shoulder, so that their
faces were reflected in the glass. If she
refused them she threw her handkerchief
across the mirror; and it seemed to -night
as if no one pleased her;for one after another
was rejected, and Enrico was enchanted to
see the confidence with which Count Carossa
had approached her, changed to undisguis-,
able chagrin as he retired into the ranks of
the refused. •
"Go and try your chance," urged a voice
in Enrico's heart. But he reflected that it
was well enough to see other men rejected,
but not so pleasant to be refused one's self.
" For Carlo's sake," urged the voice ; it
is, your sole chance of talking to her."
Much against his own inclination he
moved forward and looked grimly down
upon the mirror. His face Vas so funny a
eontrast to all the worshipping faces which
had preceded it that Francesca could have
found it in her heart to laugh at -it bad she
not been so happy and relieved. To the
astonishment of • every one, including
Enrico himeelf, she made the sign of accept-
ance, and with the proud sense of possession
hiegood humot returned, and he was ready
to believe nothing but good of her.
" I thought you were never coming," she
said, under her breath, when talking was
possible.
"Did you wish for me ?" he asked, in his
cold, rather sarcastic voice. "1 thought
you were far too well provided with, cava-
liers to care for so indifferent a dancer."
" You ought to have known that' you
were the one Irian in the room I should care
to talk with," she saidomickly, stung by
his tone, and by the perception of what he
must have thought of her. But the next
moment she half regretted, her words, for
Enrieo's whole face changed, and he lifted
his eyes to hers with the look in them whIcli
she could not bear to see, save in the eyes
of the man she loved.
"1 thoUght you would tell me of Carlo,"
she said, determined to speak out boldly,
though she would have preferred a more
quiet place for the talk. "Have you heard
from him ?" ,
" Three times," said Enrico, recovering
his usual manner,
8.
•
zttetezearerezete.e.-.eeeestreettOieleet,
mingled je •
"'leleeed with I
- They were Interruptee
two by the necessity of attencunk ._ •
dance. In the next interval he saw that the
jealousy lead given place to unclouded satis-
faction, and it was almost in the tone of her
old childish days that she said, "Oh, yoe
-will-tell-me all -about him, -will you • not
You are his friend, I know, and for his sake,
you will still be mine, I hope."
"Indeed I will," he said, very kindly,
"if you will let me. You never liked me
in the old days; I dare say I was very dis-
agreeable."
"No, it was my fault" said Francesca.
"1 was so jealous of you because you took
up the time, end I was afraid he cared for
you mere than for me; but now—but now I
am not jealous any more." She laughed a
little, and glanced up at him with a
humorous look in her dark gray eyes.
"1 would do anything•to serve you," said
Enrico. • "1 cannot help „dill thinking of
you as one who belongs to Carlo', and for
that reason your slightest wish shall be a
command to me."
-" Thank you; you are so kind; you un-
derstaud so well, Enrico," she replied,
quickly adopting the tone f brotherly and
sisterly intimacy which he had carefully in-
stilled into his last remark. She was very
grateful to him for putting in that saving
clause, "for that reason," and dismissed
forever from her mind the fear which had
seized her not long since that Enrico wee
going over into the tiresome ranks of her
adorers. He was going to do no such thing;
he was going to be to her just the strong,
kind, brotherly friend she needed.
"1 On glad it is over," ehe exclaimed, as
the made ceased ; "do let us' get some-
where away from all these people. Are you
engaged for the next dance ? "
• " No," said Enrico, hardly knowing
whether to be amused or charmed by her
unconventional frankness.
"Ah, I am so glad ! for I saved it oh,
purpose, and made Count Carossa so cross.
Please, please, sit out with me somewhere,
and tell me about the letters."
Enrico in his secret soul felt a thrill of
pride as he reflected that the belle of the
evening had besought him to stay with her.
Then all selfish thoughts faded away in
admiration of the love which made shy,
timid Francesca so innocently bold, so de-
lightfully unlike the giels whom he was in
the habit of meeting in society.
He led her into the conservatory, which
was prettily' hung with. Chinese lanterns;
and here, at the far end, they discovered a
'charming little nook, with a rustic heat half
hidden by ferns and flowering plants.
"1 will send you the letters to read if
you like; I coald always do that," began
Enrico.
"No," she said, with a sigh, "1 don't
think it would be right, for my father made
me promise not to write to him or receive
letters from him, and that Would seem like
a sort of subterfuge. But it can't be wrong
to hear about him now that we have met at
last. Where did he write from ?"
"The first letter was from Malta; he
seemed fadrlycheerful, made great fun over
the colorless island, and grew Very patriotic
over his comparisons. I am afraid he feels
his exile a„great deal. You see he is such
a thorough Italian; all hie interests are
bound up with the country. Then, too, he
was a good deal pained- because those
idiots down at the Circle, of Social Instruc-
tion—the club, you know, in which he had
always taken so much interest—quite mis-
understood his turning public singer, up-
braided him with his desertion of the cause
—much they knew a,bout it !—and called
him frivolous and self-seeking, just as if
they were a parcel of English Par tans, if
you will pardon the comparison:" . •
Francesca sighed. ' " It seems as If all
the world were against him."
"But that is what such knights•errant
must expect," said Enrico.
"1 can't see why," said Francesca, sadly;
"of course they would expect the evil to be
arrayed against them, but when their fel-
low -soldiers turn upon them that seems
hard. Still I think he was prepared for it;
he counted the cost before' he set out—not
_that that makes it any easier to bear."
"He wrote again from Gibraltar, where,
they Seem to have had a busy time," con-
tinued Enrico; "and then again he wrote
on board the steamer and posted the letter
in England, so they are safely there, though
the letter, being posted on landing, gave no
particulars as to his first notions of the
country."
Francesca was silent for a minute ; the
bare dry facts were so unsatisfying she
wanted to know all the little details, she
longed,so terribly to see the letters them-
selves. Enrico partly understood, but found
it impossible to come to her help. He had
had no idea that it would have proved so
hard to give any coherent account of his
friend's long letters. While he was racking
his brains for some quotable sentence he
became aware of voices at a little distance
beyond their leafy, screen ; he heard the word
" Donati," and then, as the speakers drew
nearer, the whole conversation became dis-
tinctly audible. •
" Well, his uncle is furious about it—
disowned him on the spot."
"You mark my words, Recline, there's a
'Woman in the case. For all Donati's high
reputation, I would stake my life on it.
These fellows who set up for being moial,
if once they are touched, go to greater
lengths than we should."
"For the matter of that," remarked the
other, " it is likely enough he should turn
singer with such a voice ; magnificent ! the
finest baritone 1 ever heard." •
" Corpo del diavolo 1 you are as innocent
as a child, my friend ! Would a man throw
ever a fortune and a good match and a pro-
fession to boot? Besides, see how quickly
it was all arranged? One week we were
congratulating him on being an avvocato,
the next this fair unknown had lured him
on to the stage."
"What about a match'? 1 heatd nothiug
of that."
" I assure you I have it, on the best
authority that he was betrothed to Miss
Britton, and left her for 'he sake of the
fair unknown." n
" Capperi ! 'rids is truly a chapter from
a romance ! Let ind see who was there in
Merlino's company ? The little De Caisne,
do you think ? or Domenica Borelli ?"
The reply was inaudible ; there came a
sound of laughter, then the voices died
away in the distance.
Enrico had been on the point of dashing
forward to put a peremptory stop to the
malicious gossip, but the recollection of
Francesca's presence made him pause. To
discusrrthe matter before her was out of the
tem Ite would have been alined lin-
,.
question, and even had she not been
first he could -Ade -eft to any purpose, so
companion, but when the srleeinterwoven
the conservatory he turned to France:es-
an.in.digname exclamatiabling on his
lips. The exclamation was never uttered;
however,, for the sight of her face almost
choked him; it was bathed in tears, of
which she seemed unconscious, for she
made no effort to hide them ; ker hands
were tightly locked together, and the tears
eained down over her lovely pink -end -white
cheeks. She had not stirred since their
conversation had been interrupted, her
face was still turned to his, just as it had
been when he told her of Carlo's letters.
Enrico longed to rush after the slanderers
and crack their skulls together ; he had
river in his whole life felt so savage and
yet so tender, so eager to comfort and yet
so conscious of his own unfitness.
"Don't heed those brutes," he entreated.
"After all, you knowevery public charader
is exposed to this sort of thing, and really,
upon niy soul, if one were not so angry one
would be obliged to laugh at such an absurd
notion."
Francesca did not speak, but ehe was re-
called to the present, and made an effort to
stop crying.
Enrico thought she had never looked so
lovely .before, and felt that her tears were
making sad havoc of his philosophy; and
that, in self-defence, he must do what he
could to check them.
"See," he began, in his kindest voice,
" if you go back to the ballroom presently,
and people notice that you have been cry-
ing, it Will make an opening for more of.this
infernal gossip."
" Yes," she said with e quiver in her
voice which made his heart ache. " I had
not thought of that " ; and hastily drying
her eyes, she raised them to his all bright
and shining, and pathetic as the eyes of a
little child in trouble. Do you think it
sinews much now ?" she asked.
Enrico was no lady's man; he neither per-
jured himself to please her nor evaded the
question by a compliment, as many would
have done. He looked gravely into those
dark grey depths, and critically at the wet
lashes fringing them.
• " It does rather," he said ; " but weneed
not go back yet, they are still dancipg."'
"How sad the music sounds !" she said,
witli a sigh ; "and yet ithe:el.waltz 1 used
to be so fond of. It seems as if those hate-
ful words heel taken the sweetness out of
everything."
" poseu think of them 1" exclaimed Enrico.
"After all, you know it is but the way of
the world. People would be dull if they
did not inveot little scandals of this kind.
Carlo has done'an altogether unprecedented
thing, has actrially loved his sister better
than himself ; but the world can't look into
his heart, and naturally, after its invariable
custom, credits him with low motives."
"It is just thAt which mikes it so hard,"
said Francesca. "1 didn't think they could
have been so cruel; people- too, who -must
really have known him. How can they—
how can they think such things? All his
life gives the lie to it !"
There Wits a silence; the music rang out
more,distinctly ; it seemed to say to Fran-
cesca: "After all, 'tis hollow kind of mer-
riment, but we are bound to go on. yhe
fiddler is longing to get home to his dying
wife, but he must play on to the end! And
the dancers have aching hearts, but they
must dance, dance, and. be merry. This is
pleasure, you know ---the world's pleasure 1"
You.see," said Enrico, "the world hail
always been very kind to you, and so you
have been deceiye,d. People naturally
make much of you, and that, of course, is
plc asant."
• "1. don't think I can ever enjoy anything
again," said Francesca, with the firm con-
viction of two -and -twenty that the particu-
lar cloud in its sky is going to prove more
powerful than the sun.
But there was, nevertheless, some truth
in her remark- She would enjoy again, .but
never in the same way; she would enjoy as
a woman, but never again as a, happily
ignorant girl,
"Everything seems hollow and unreal,"
she went .on : "1 have believed it,a,11 so
much !"
"You must not let me convert you to my
creed," said Enrico, with a smile, " or how
could I ever face Carlo? It is an odd eoie-
cidence that while you, through this busi-
ness, get your first glimpse behind the
world's scenes, and are disillusioned, I, in
•watching you and Carlo, have felt almost
ready to throw over my pet theory of uni-
versal egoism."
" What 'arguments you and Carlo used to
have in the old days,"said Francesca, re-
covering herself, anfeeling much cheered
by his words. Then, with a little, sniile,
she added t "1 have been talking just like
a horrid old woman we used to know in
England. I wished her merry Christina,s
one day, and she shook her head and looked
so glum as she grumbled out erry Christ-
mas indeed ! There's no merriment in this
world.' I do hope I sha'n't grow like her."
Enrico laughed..
I shall tell Carlo that story when next I
write. You will not allow me to send any
message from you I suppose ?"
" No, I can't do that," she sighed ; he
knows I can't. But oh, Enrico, it is such
comfort to know that you write to him.
Write of ten—prom ise to w ri te of ten. "
Once again they talked over all the news
in Carlo's letters; then, leaving the flowery
retreat; made their way back to the
crowded rooms. Francesca was speedily
claimed by her next pa.rtner, and Enrico
leaned meditatively against the wall, watch-
ing the gay scene and musing over that
,pathetic complaint which the girl had made
to him: "They have taken the sweetness
out of everything."
Years after, if any one had asked him
what was the most touching sight he had
ever seen, there would heve arisen in h-rs
mind a picture of that gayly -lighted
ballroom and of krhainech,esca'sspi teo
sweet,f
sad face, upon w'
all her efforts,•there yet -lingered the traces
of tears. Again and again she was whirled
past him, her feet flew over the ground, hut
her face always bore the same expression,
and he kliew well that it was only a sense
of duty which kept her up, and that she
danced with a sore heart,.
, CHAPTER XIX.
•
Of sbernaisens— hefghtened, keener nerves and
Suffer and love, love much and suffer long—
And live through all, and at the last be strong?
**
Thou shalt need all the strength that Gh;c1 can
.we
-"- Mormesee vefriendasiraplyeto -live. • - - -
Shocking murder tee _. t„ Life." -F. W. IL
cheerful announcement, in TiK..
of a newspaper boy, awoke Carve
morning early in the autumn to the recol-
lection that he was in England. He started
broad awake in a moment from dreams of
Francesca and Casa Bella, and with a pang
of realization, to which he was now too well
accustomed, knew that he was altogether
parted from her, and looked with blank,
hopeless, miserable depression round the
unfamiliar hotel room.
It Was one of those narrow, gloomy places
often met with in inns. At the' foot of his
own narrow, iron bedstead was a seconL
just as narrow, and though the general im-
pression conveyed was of meagre bareness
in respect to the furniture, yet one felt
cramped and oppressed by the proportions
of the room.
"Soles and whiting ! soles and whiting !"
sang a nasal -voiced fishwoman in the street.
And then, after; an interval, came a cry so
einxgt7mely comic that Carlo burst out laugh.
"Are you awake, San Carlo ?" exclaimed
Gigi, appeariog, with the suddenness of a
Jack -in -the box, from beneath the clothes
on the other bed.
" Giusto Cielo ! what can the woman be
calling.?" said Carlo. " Gigi, it you •love
me jump out of bed and see rt
Gigi, nothing loath, sprung up and darted
to the window.6.J
" It's black thittgs in a basket," he an-
nounced. "0', now I can hear what she
says ; it is Pickled cockles ! pickled
cockles 1"
By the time the cry had died away in
the di stance Carlo was grave and depressed
again ; he tried to live through his dream
once more, and to forget the distasteful
reality, while all the time he was listlessly ,
•watching Gigi in the performance of. his ,
toilet, a eight which might well have tickled
the gravity of an unaccustomed observer.
Necessity had taught the little fellow to be
far more handy than most children of his
age, and now that Carlo had instilled into
his mind the duties of cleanliness and godli-
ness, his business -like way of setting to
work was most edifying, beginning
sedulously with soap and water, and ending
with the Paternoster," which Carlo had
taught him in Italian.
The place seemed to grow less desolate as
the child very slowly and deliberately re-
peated the familiar words, and Carlo's heart
grew lighter. True, he had as yet made no
way at all with Anita, and the future still
looked black' and unpromising, but at any
rate Gigi was the, better for the change of
baritones; and what right had he to fear
for the result of work which he had begun
in obedience to a direct call?
Peeciocche tuo e iI regno, e la potenza,
e ta eerie, in Seinpiterno. Arnen," re-
peated. Gigi; then springing to his feet, and
relapsing into English, "May I go down
,and play, San Carlo?"
Carlo patted the little brown head.
• "• Why, yes, to be sure, old man, take
your soldiers and play in the coffee -room.
I'll be down directly !' •
" It's as goo,d as a play to see how that fel-
low can turn Merlino round his finger! And
all the time the old brute treats him like a
dog. I'm hanged if I understand how Val-
entine does it, and how he keeps his temper,
for he's got a pretty hot one, for all his
sweetness. Jove! I should just like to poke
the devil up in him for once and see what
he'd do. He's'none bf your milk -and -water
saints or he could never act as he does."
But if to Sardoni, who held the key to
the enigma,'Callo's character and life were
perplexing, to the rest of the troupe they
were altogether incomprehensible. . Some of
them admired him; others found his unsel-
fishness convenient, and did not scruple to
trade on it; others were jealous of his suc-
cess, aiyd suspected him of .trying to curry
favor with ,Merlino ; and though, ,before
long, all except Gomez had ' been
,so far conquered by the charm
of his manner as to treathim
with friendly familiarity, not one of • ihem
was capable of fathoming the beauty of his
• character. He was merely, in their eyes, a
pleasant exchange Apr Comerio—a youngster
who, at present, seemed unspoiled by his
success, •a good traveling companion, .who
was always ready to make fun of pettAdil-
comforts, and who seemed quite natu4I1y,
and with an utter absence of ostentation, to
take upon himself the "dirty work" of the,
company.
Sardoni was the only one who troubled
himself"to wonder about the new baritone ;
he could not have told why' it was that he
had from the very first been in attracted by
him, but the attraction only grew more
powerful the more he saw of him, and his
reckle'ss norichalrtuce was fast melting away
in the deep interest of his half•avowed
friendship. He could have laughed at him-
self for being so absorbed in the study of a
fellow -actor that his ordinary pleasures
palled"upon him ; but there was no disput-
ing the fact, and when Carlo was near he
was always conscious of a. sort of fascination
which compelled him to throw off his cold
indifference, which roused him into a pleas-
ant warmth of wonder, and made' him look
and listen, aud wait upon Donati's utter-
ances as thongli they were most remarkable.
And this, to tell the truth, they seldom
were, for Carlo was not particularly intel-
lectual, neither was he brilliant and ea.ey ;
it was rather that he was what the Itieffans
call " sinvpatica," and full of an undefined
charm which made him as lovable as he
was incomprehensible.,
He came in soon after, looking fagged and
much inclined for a peaceful cigar.
(To be oort'nrund.)
_
ti
IN I:NI:LAND.
And hest thou chosen then ? Canst t hon en- ,
d 'vitt?
The Purging °bongo of frost and (talent ure .
Accept the sick recoil the etelry pal II
Friendly with the Wrong; Man.
Brown has a great friendshipforesTertes
but hates Smith. Why is it ?" .
"Smith eadd Brown .wasn't fit to carry
swill to a hog."
yee!,
" 'Jones said he was."
She Appreciated Ri4
Mrs. Crimmins (at 2 a. m.) --Is that you,
jame,8 L
.TameaYesh (hie), m'dear.
Mrs. Crimmins—Well, lock the gal and
turn out I he_cloor and—Judfp.
The man who dies young will not be
obliged to dye when he is old.