Rensselaer Journal, Volume 11, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 August 1901 — BEHIND A CURTAIN. [ARTICLE]

BEHIND A CURTAIN.

THE little street of “bijou residences near the park,’’ was pleasantly full of yellow sunshine and blue window boxes. Half way down a carriage Intensified the dry whiteness of the pavements and roads by its gleaming blackness. The straight-featured footman stood tear the carriage door, with black and white legs stiffiy posed, and eyes gazing forward with the regulation IWant of expression. He conversed Iwith the coachman In subdued and (Wary tones. - “Pretty looking girl at Number Bight.” Coachman rolled his eyes to the left scorner of his eyesockets, and perceived at Number Eight a bright young face, half veiled behind the draperies of the Ittrawing-room window. • “She’s Just out,” remarked the footman. “Here comes the fellow who’s most gone on her.” A gentleman walked alertly up to Number Eight pnconsclous of the scrutiny of the liveried critics, saw the lace at the window vanish suddenly, and smiled to himself as he rung the bell. He went up-stairs repeating audibly the little sentences of deftly hidden Sweetness and wooing he had prepared to say to her. She was very young, of enticing shyness and variableness, yet be was almost sure she loved him. He Sneant to ntter his carefully arranged phraseß cautiously! and, if a propitious moment or mood appeared, to make his proposal. The door was opened, he was announced and went forward eagerly to greet—her sister, and the latest novelty in five o’clock tea sets. He mumbled a disconcerted reply to the sister chaperone’s remarks, and gazed searchlngly about the room. Ob, Cor an eye of cathode ray power to see Mrhither she had flown! “What a delightful day!” said the lady. “London sunshine is the finest In the world; it Is so beautiful to see Its effect on the ordinary every day dimness and dullness. Like all fine things its value is heightened by Its Scarcity.” “Yes, fearfully hot The sun is blinding,” he observed abstractedly. Hang the sun! What has she run away Cor? Were all those blushes and shy looks merely the result of timidity and self-consciousness? He could swear be saw her pretty face and shoulders St the window as he came up the Steps “One lump, please,” he murmured. “Did you enjoy yourself at Lady Cardby’s dance?” "As much as the chaperone may,” answered the young dame, with an ancient air that sat bewltehlngly upon her coquettish fairness. “A sister lately ‘brought out’ is a great responsibility. Besides, the ‘buds’ detract from the ‘blossoms.’” “You are youthful enough to rank with the buds,” he smiled with a sudden gleam of sanity and gallantry. "Is Miss Maydey quite well?” “Very well, thank you. In fact she Is a little too brisk and lively for my nerves sometimes.” “Really? Now I thought her the quietest, demurest of little maids—if I may be permitted to express any thought about so charming a young lady.” He spoke with an affedted lightness that was more intense than the greatest earnestness. Evidently the slßter understood his case. She turned her beautifully dressed head aside for an instant, and her mouth quivered with suppressed mirth. “Ah, that Is her ‘society’ manner, and will depart when she has seen a season or two,” she affirmed. “When we are alone, I assure you, she Is the most provoking, teasing, laughing, mischievous child you could possibly find. She has no reverence for my dignity or my toilets. Yesterday she burst in upon me with the avowed Intention of ‘making me giggle!”’ He was listening with attentive ears —the ears of a lover to whom any and everything concerning his mistress Is of more Importance than the total Instantaneous disappearance of a great nation or the collapse of all the thrones of Europe. Suddenly he saw the velvet curtain—which draped one side of the flower-filled fireplace, at which he was looking—quiver strangely. Scarcely a breath of wind came In through the open windows, and the grate was blocked entirely by a sheet of painted looking glass. Moreover, the curtain on the other side hung more flatly and closely than its quivering fellow, which bulged out here and there In a manner unknown to artistic upholsterers. A suspicion flashed through his dazed brain. He sat up with renewed •nergy and said: "You tre describing a very charming character. lam half In love with

your description of a girlish life and waywardness.” He paused and saw the curtain give a quick, wavering, tremulous convulsion to Its folds, which Instantly became still again as he continued: “Do you think it worth a man's while to try to exist with half a heart?” “Really,” said the lady, "I am not a specialist In diseases of the heart.” “But,” he pleaded, “you have broken so many to heal one that your experience must be of value, and your opinion very well worth hearing—like that of a general practitioner.” “Well.” answered the young matron, cautiously, “It Is certainly better to live with a whole heart, or even half of one, than without any at all. It Is more natural to exist with a heart and consequently It Is more graceful.” “I am doomed to ungalnliness./then, though 1 will fling the rest after the first part and live a life of unnatural, Inartistic, nightmarish ugliness. Pity my fate! If only the sweet thief who i has stolen my heart would give It back i to me—with her own—l think I could i manage to make myself satisfied with | my existence.” He was looking at the curtain. The i curtain became agitated and swayed , to and fro. “Well,” said the sister champion. “I , think you are too greedy. Two hearts belonging to one person Is as unnafUr- I al as no heart.” “What shall I do? Persuade the ' thief to exchange the bobty and share 1 It?” “That would be best, I think,” she 1 said, laughing, and looking In his eyes. He flushed and stared at the now motionless curtain. Then he looked back at her questloningly. The youug dame nodded her fair head slightly, 1 and picked up a piece of needlework lying on a work basket A light flashed Into his eyes. He put the cup and saucer he had been holding In his hands down on the tray and half rose from his chair. The lady motioned him to sit down. “Well, hearts are artful things often, and all the task and discussion of them is artless.” she said. “Let os be sensible.” “Are we ever sensible?” he said stupidly. “I don’t know. J» wonder If we are most sensible when we are most senseless? They say insane people always fancy themselves sane and others Insane. How queer If all the lunatics are really sensible and all the sensible world (as we think ourselves) Insane! Isn’t It 'a gruesome Idea? See what comes of speaking of impossibilities!” “Are you sure we have been talking of Impossibilities?” he Inquired anxiously. “What Is an impossibllty—a future certainly?” "I hope,” said he. “1 am not perfectly sure. Who can be? But I think that Is a right definition.” Still he looked at the curtain (whose strange Inequalities were continually and slowly shifting over Its velvet surface) and the sister said quickly: “Dear met I have forgotten to give Davis a most Important order. Please pardon me for one moment” The agitation of the curtain amounted almost to a distinct' shuddering among its folds. Then a stiff stillness ensue<L The sister chaperone was gone.

He walked over to the curtain. "Will you take my love and give me yours?” he said softly. The curtain fluttered and instantly drew Itself tightly In a crouching human shape. “Forgive me! Love that can laugh at locks sees through a curtain. I love yon, darling. Will you take my love for yours?” The curtain did not move. “Do answer, my lovel If it is ‘yes,’ lift the curtain; if it Is ‘no,’ let It drop as It was before.” A second or two and then three white fingers lifted a corner of the velvet. He dragged the curtain aside and lifted up a little kneeling figure with its hands pressed over Its face. “My beautiful one!” he said, clasping her to him. “What made you hide there?” “I don’t know,” said a soft, muffled voice. “I saw you at the window, did I not, love?” “Yes.” "Then why ” ' The hands came down and a pretty, flushed, childish round face/ looked up, defiantly shy lu Its Impetuous boldness. “Why, Annie laughed at me for blushing when I saw you In the street and I said I wouldn’t see you. I couldn’t get out, and so 1 hid behind the curtain.” “But you love me. Say you love me.” “I never say what I am bidden to say.” And her head went down again. “How long Is a moment?” asked the sister, opening the door. "As short as Joy,” he said happily.— Waverley Magazine.