Rensselaer Republican, Volume 15, Number 37, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 May 1883 — THE KING OF HEARTS. [ARTICLE]

THE KING OF HEARTS.

BY GEORGIANA FEATHERSTONHAUGH.

Old Peg fixed her black, beady eyes intently upon the pack of cards, which she shuffled rapidly and dexterously between her long, bony fingers, glancing occasionally as she did so at the bright eyes almost hidden beneath the drooping brim of a summer hat as they gazed expectantly down upon her. The old woman shook her head and muttered a few words in a low, gutteral tone as she laid the cards one by one carefully upon the table and eyed the girl sharply. “The lung of hearts,” slio said, half aloud; “you will have a lover fair and handsome, and, though he is rich, he will have gained his wealth through unfair means.” She saw the shade steal over the girl’s face as she turned away, and she grasped her ax’m. “But look ye, child,” she continued, detaining her, while the light in her black eyes grew iliore intense, “your wichery and loveliness will charm him, and, though in a distant city there awaits you another man good and true, though older by a score of years, and who counts Jiis wealth by the many thousands, your heart will go out to the pale, handsome lover, who will make you a proposal of marriage." The girl shuddered and looked startled as she wrenched her arm away from the fingers that clutched her sleeve and ran passionately out of the hut, throwing down a piece of silver in her mad haste. “How does that old hag know that I have spent my vacation away from home in order to escape old Htephen White, and now who is this King of Hearts?” “Wliere are you going, my pretty maid?” Polly glanced up suddenly, as she recognized the voice of her Cousin Jule. “Been to have your fortune told, hey, Polly?” she asked, linking her arm within that of her cousin. Polly blushed, and tried not to look guilty. “That is about one of the first things people do on coming to Seabreeze. And what did old Peg say? She told me once that X would live until I was 99. Pleasant prospect.” But Polly turned the subject quickly, for, if the truth must be said, Polly was rather given to superstition, and was rather inclined to believe in fortune tailing. “That is for being in a chronic state of poverty, Jule. I have but this one muslin dress, and look at that ugly rent. I am surprised that it was not my white mull—the only dress I have wherewith to captivate all Seabreeze. Mon Dieu, what a cruel provision of Providence to distribute so unequally among us poor mortals.” “But, Polly, you must remember that Seabreeze Cottage is not a fashionable place, like the hotels, and then you know that your bathing suit here is the most important, and yon are quite perfection iu that.” They had reached the long pier, and were standing looking out upon the vast expanse of blue waters, dotted with wliite sails. “I suppose it is very lively up at the hotels, and there are a great marly people,” Polly said, turning her eyes in the direction of the hotel piazza, a good distance back from the beach. “Yes,” Jule answered, “there are plenty of women and children and oldish kmd of men who seldom go into the aurf, but generally play the role of spectators. I suppose they are afraid of”— and the girl touched bar bright hair significantly. “But the younger men do not come down from the city until the end of the week, if they come at all, and then’the girls at the hotel pounce down upon them before one can say Jack Robinson.” “I should think it would be a haven lor the leßser lights of society, for they oould at least have the satisfaction of becoming favorites once a year,” the •ther returned abstractedly. “No, indeed, it is the very time they stay away out of revenge, 1 suppose. They go fishing, or out West to vis 4 some friend’s ranch and get a breath of Colorado or Dakota air. ” s “Well, 1 would do the same if I only received a gracious smile when no one better could be found. But what /is that setting yonder upou that bowlder ? < It certainlv resembles a stem lord of creation. Is it one of your oldish nonbathers, or is it one of the rarer kind? Let me see if I can analyze him at this distance. He wears glasses, for I can see the gold rims gleaming in the sun. He has a blonde mustache e cane or umbrella, and he is tilfwßidg a cigar. He is undoubtedly one of the rarer kind, and would probably say to himself, ‘Who the deuce are you?’ Should we venture nearer? Bat oome, ]*t us take a closer observation, you

know, under the guise of a stroll, of course.” Jule hesitated. “He might consider us rude and be far-seeing enough to discover our ruse. 71 “Don’t be prtidish, please; you need not look at him. You can direct your attention to the boats with the flapping sails, while I do the looking, for I am quite anxious to see one of your seabreeze tourists.” And, beiog possessed of a stronger will than her companion, they were soon walking in that direction. • “Yes, it is one of the rarer kind,” Polly said, lowering her voice, to hercousin who was gazing at the white sails with an air of deep attention. Suddenly Polly uttered a shrill scream, which sounded up and down the beach, at the same time losing her hold upon her epusin’s silk parasol, which the.frolicsome wind caught. It careened madly for a moment alpng the edge of the waten, then took a sudden leap and bobbed and danced out upon a high wave. Jule looked startled, while the occupant of the bowlder came hastily forward. “That horrible goat, do—do please drive it away, it is looking straight at me.” Polly cried, “and my parasol; it will be,ruined,” clasping her hands despairingly. Paul Oldthorp stroked his mustache, as he, with one dexterous stride placed himself between Polly and the innocent nannie, who had moved to a fresh nibbling place, every now and then shaking its long beard and giving vent to a plaintiff baa. Should he first drive away the harmless beast, or should he rescue the parasol, which resembled an immense crimson peony cast upon the water, he vaguely-wondered? But he was equal to both emergencies, for, taking ofi' his straw hat, lie waved it frantically at the grazing goat, at the same time uttering a loud shoo, shoo, scat, hiit, causing it to abandon its browsing field iu fright, then, springing to the edge of the water, rescued the floating treasure, just as it was brought to the shore upon an incoming wave*.

Polly took the streaming parasol, and regarded it mournfully. It was her .principal background to set off her white mull dress, and now it was quite spoiled. “Perhaps if you hang it on this tree in the sun it will dry faster,” Oldthorp suggested, adjusting it firmly to a swaying bough, where it swung to aud fro, while Polly rubbed off the wet sand with her handkerchief. “I suppose mariners will think it is a beacon light,” she said, laughing. “I am afraid you will consider me a woful coward,” with a deprecating glance at the distant goat, .then burst into a merry laugh, into which both her cousin and Oldthorp joined. “I do not imagine the goat would have done you any possible harm,” he said, looking into Polly’s flushed, smiling face. “But Polly has always lived in the city, and she is apt to be a little timid, ” Jule said, in a half apologetic way. “Ah! I see,” ho replied, again stroking his mustache. “You would not have made a very brave helpmate for Noah in'his journoy up to Ararat, lam afraid.” Polly looked up quickly. ' “You are making fun of me now; but if I had been chosen for Noah’s companion, I should have insisted upon sitting on the roof of the ark with an umbrella,” and she reached out her hand to her own to see if it showed signs of dryness. “A red silk one, no doubt,” Oldthorp replied, with a smile, unfastening the swinging one and placing it in the girl’s hand.

The while, the “King of Hearts” and the words of the old sibyl kept ringing in Polly’s ears. They were walking in the direction of Seabreeze Cottage, after having parted from their companion. The day was fast closing in, and the sun was setting like a ball of fire in the west. “I wonder who he is,” Polly said reflectively. “Did you ever see him before, Jule?” Jule shrugged her shoulders. “Never,” she responded. “Perhaps he is one of the party of poker players staying at the hotel. Toni says there is such a party. ’’ “Well, it*was quite a little adventure at any rate; but Ido hope we will not meet him again.” It was a lovely morning; the air was hazy and soft, and the breakers were falling gently as they sung a monotonous song upon the shore. Polly was sauntering slowly toward the beach, with her bathing suit tucked snugly under her arm. All Seabreeze seemed to be taking advantage of the fine day, judging from the number of bathers disporting themselves in the water. Many strollers and loungers were scat-' tered, singly and in groups, upon the shore, watching the sport with no little merriment, their bright dresses and gay parasols lending a cheerfulness to the scene. . It had been nearly a week since Polly had again ventured in. the direction in which she found herself walking today. Not since the encounter with the stranger who had occupied the bowlder. But she rather avoided the place, and the hotel people, fearing that Jule’s random words of their chance acquaintance being a poker-player might be verified Bne had come that way thinking that he had already become weary of the monotony of Seabreeze* and had sought a more congenial resort. Polly’s eyes weae bent upon the ground as she tripped lightly along; but, by some undofinable impulse, she suddenly raised them, and there, sitting upon the bowlddr in the same spot she saw the object of her passing thoughts. She felt her face grow red. Should she bow, or should she only pass on? she wondered;

he may have forgotten the circumstance altogether; and then as matters stood how could she possibly recognize him ? She gave a hurried glance at the figure and then looked in an opposite direction. But Oldthorp left his seat and sauntered toward her, making it impossible for PoHy to do otherwise'than look at the tall form standing only a few feet away. She raised her eyes and met his gaze with a faint smile. “Like many others, I see you are a lover of the surf, Miss Fletcher,” he said, stepping to her side, “though I cannot recollect seeing you for the past few days.” Polly looked up in surprise. Had he actually watched for her among all these people? “I am not a regular bather,” she replied, at the same time remembering that she had scarcely missed a day since her stay in Seabreeze. Yet how could she say “I have been avoiding you?” “Ah,” he said, “I have the advantage of you for I have not missed a single day of this delightful weather.” Polly laughed. “You have the advantage of me in more than one way,” glancing up into her face. “How?” he asked. “You already know my name, while I have not the slightest idea of yours, or by what means you ascertained mine.” “I hope you will pardon the oversight,” he said, handing her a small card which he had taken from his pocket, quite regardless of the last part of her remark. ’ “Paul Oldthorp,” was the name engraved upon its face. Polly fplt ill at ease as she walked along the beach toward the bathinghouse. Why did the people stare at her and her companion, and seem to regard them with so much curiosity? Who was this Paul Oldthorp, she uneasily wondered while two vivid red spots burnt upon her cheeks? How angry Uncle Felix would be if he should accidentally hear of it, but she would not tell him, and when she left Seabreeze all would be forgotten, for her uncle took but little interest in the people at the hotel.

“Paul Oldthorp, that is hid name, Jule,” said Polly, when she returned home quite breathlessly. “There is his oard and he is coming this evening. I was obliged to be polite. I could not help it,” seeing the astonishment depicted upon her cousin’s face. “He invited himself in a very diplomatic way or rather led me on to extend the invitation ; but perhaps after one visit we can manage to prevail upon him to take long walks, and give us lessons in botany, and by that means we can keep him out of Uncle Felix’s way.” As the evening began to steal over the quiet cottage, Polly donned her white mull dress, for in spite of her and her cousin’s forebodings as to the identity of their new-found acquaintance Polly felt a keen desire to bring to the surface her every charm, and she wondered why she experienced a feeling of happiness, such as She had never felt when in the presence of old Stephen White, who was a model of goodness and propriety, and whose attentions to her were so distasteful, and yet her acquaintance with Paul Oldthorp had been one of such short duration, and he—Polly covered her face with her hands and tried not to think of him. If he was what Jule had almost asserted he was, what a terrible state of affairs, to be sure. “He has wealth, though gained through unfair means,” were the words that came back to her. She heard the gate click, and she knew that he had come. There was a sort of a caress iu Oldthorp’s touch as he gently pressed Polly’s small hand for an instant, and it brought the color to her cheek.

Jule fluttered uneasily about the room, hardly allowing her eyes to rest upon the face of their guest, fearing that in his countenance she might discover proofs of her suspicion. It was difficult to tell how or where the hours had flown. They had taken no heed of the time, only their own enjoyment, and when the great dock in the hall chimed out the hour of ten, they were all surprised. The evening had seemed very short to Polly as she s£ood saying a few parting words at the gate. * She remained long after Oldthorp’s form had vanished amid the shadows of the overhanging trees. “What does it say, Jule?” Polly asked, holding up a card, when she entered the house. “I found it lying outside of the gate.” Jule took it and read: “Ned, come down and see the fnn; stakes running high. P. O.” Polly looked quite miserable. “Oould we have better proof? Just think of it, Jule—a gambler!” The days came and went. Polly never ventured near the small bathinghouse, and the pier was quite forsaken by her presence, and she made various threats of returning home and bask in the smiles of old Stephen White. She had no alternative —that, or always teaching the young ideas how to shoot. They had taken a long walk one day, and were sitting upon a fallen tree, surrounded by green, feathery ferns, while they listened to the laving water rise and fall, with a swishing sound, upon the beach in the distanoe. They had not uttered a word for at least five minutes, when Jule looked up and suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, Polly, there is Paul Oldthorp walking along the beach! I am going to hide; come along,” tugging at her cousin’s sleeve, who sat perfectly still and did not apsear5 ear inclined to follow, and in a moment ule nad vanished into a clump of bushes. She had only time to gather her skirts about her when she heard Oldthorp’s voice.

“You seem to have taken possession of Fera wood, ”he said, seating himself upon the other end of the tree. “Are you alone?” “No,” Polly replied, hesitatingly. “That is, not now.” Oldthorp gazed at her cnriously. “You seem to have overcome your dread of goats and—and wild cats, too, I suppose. You look d very desolate sitting here alone as I came up.” “You are very goed to say so, I am sure,” PoUy answered. “I was just thinking of starting for home when you appeared,” and she made a movement as if to put her words into effect. “Oh! not just yet,” he said, laying a de aining hand upon her arm. “I am going away for good pretty soon, and perhaps I may not have another opportunity of saying what I have been wishing to tay to you for many days. Why have you been avoiding me so perpistently?” he asked suddenly. Polly’s face grew red and trembled slightly. “I have not been avoiding you,” guiltily. “Seabreeze is a lovely place to spend a few idle weeks and one is apt to regret leaving it,” she tried to say in a matter-of-fact voice.

“That is not what I regret,” he reflied hurriedly. “It is leaving you, oily, don’t you know; cannot you feel that I love you, and have ever since the day I rescued your umbrella, and I want you to be my wife; promise me before I go.” He had taken her hand, and was searching her face with passionate eyes. But she drew it away gently. “IJlease don’t,” she laughed, “it is very redieulous. Mr. Oldthorp, they say that every one at the seaside has a passion, and I suppose I am that passion to you; but please do not think of me, I cannot possibly marry you.” She tried to make her voice sound light and careless, as if sho believed all. she was saying. “Then you do not care for me,” he replied. “I will not say that, for I do care for you a great deal; but I cannot marry you, indeed I cannot.” “Why?” he asked. “Because.”

Oldthorp laughed. “Because is not a reason. ” “It is all I can give, though you may think it is very weak. ” “Won’t you try to think of it before you leave Seabreeze,” he asked pleadingly, following her as she arose to go. Was it necessary for her to think of it? Had she not done so already? The walk home was a long, quiet one. Polly tried hard to urge on the conversation, but Oldthorp maintained a moody silence. A week later Polly found herself gazing out of the narrow car •window, and watching Seabreeze being left far behind her. She was going home to old Stephen White’s effusive attentions, and the noisy throng of schoolchildren. “If there isn’t Dwiie Paul, the gambler and his, party, who have been staying at the Palace,” exclaimed a voice directly behind Polly; “the man with the glasses over yonder, and those immense diamonds. ” Polly looked, too, her heart giving sundry loud thumps, but, oontrary to her expectations, she did not recognize in the man with the glasses and blonde mustache or the rest of the party any familiar face, or one that resembled Paul Oldthorp. The door at the end of the car opened, and Oldthorp himself entered. Immediately his eye fell upon her, and he came toward her. “Are you leaving Seabreeze?” he asked, his countenance quickly lighting. “There seems to be a sudden exodus. ” Polly’s lips trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. How she had misjudged him after all, and now how conld she make amends? “Polly!” Oldthorp exclaimed, seeing her tears, “you are unhappy. Can I help you?” • “I was in the wrong,” Polly managed to gasp; “but can you forgive me without an explanation?” Oldthorp looked puzzled. “If you will promise what I asked you a week ago, I agree to remain in the dark,” he replied, laughing. It was many months afterward before Polly explained to Oldthorp what her fears had been, and of her visit to the hut of Old Peg. But she is Ins wife now, and is the reeipient of many more stares from the curious, who wonder where that little school teacher conld possibly have met the son ofj one of the great bonanza kings, not the king of hearts, but the king of diamonds.— Chicago Ledger.