A HORRID WRETCH.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 4715, 5 August 1893, Page 2

A HORRID WRETCH.

j (Detroit Free Press.) | Prank H08.i1.g3 was nn American, residing in ;' Paris forthe pleasure o. it, ami incidontally to * attond to tho Europeka business of the firm of > which his father was the head. America was good ! enough for the father, rich though ho was, hut j the young man had been educated abroad, and he j was slow to return to the paternal home. He { was about tweuty-eight, and for a number of years Paris had been mora of a home to him than any other place. He was ii good-looking fellow, .'and, of course, he was popular not only in Paris but in London as well, and his visits thqro were frequent. As is usual with men who are popular j in sooiety, this young mrfn-had been slow tin ' placing his hoart, and though ho had known | many young women very pleasantly, none had l succeeded yet in making a lasting impression on * him* except, possibly, one or two, tt/hom he could not impress, and those Impressions he had wisely and philosophically blotted out. ,'..*■ He had been in London for a week, and was on ■ his way back to Paris, by way of Folkestone and Boulogno, and at Boulogne had taken his place in a first-class compartment, when he was almost immediately followed by two protty American girls, with a chaperon as deaf as a post, if he were to judge by the high pitch of the girls' voices whon they addressed her. The young women olmttered away very glibly, with only slight occasional notico of his presence, but when tho train did not leave just at the moment they had expected, they became restive, . and at last One of them turned to him. "I beg your pardon," she eaid, "but can you tell us when this train will go? " Mr Hastings was, in his way, anaitfnl dodger, and here was his opportunity. Two pretty girls, with an insatiate desiro to talk; a deaf chaperon ; nobody.else in the compartment, and" a long ride to Paris. That was as much ns any man need have to enjoy himself with, and Mr Hastings was living just then with that comnienrlnble object ia view. He looked like a Frenchman, he certainly had the manner of one, and why should ho not be ono? That waa the proposition which formulated itself in his mental chamber, and on thathe acted, with promptness and despatch, as the advertisements say. When the young woman addressed him, therefore, ho made his politest bow, shook liis head voluminously, shrugged his shoulders pathetically, and replied : "Je ne vous comprend pas, mademoiselle," adding a very fetching smile to that "mademoiselle." The girl's face reddened visibly. She had to explain to the chaperon. The other girl laughed and Mr Hastings shrugged hia shoulders some more, and politely became unconscious of the presence of the ladies. " You might have known ho was a Frenchman," said the other girl. "He certainly doesn't look liko an Englishman, and nobody would take him for an American." " Well, you didn't know it," was the petulant answer. "If I did or did not, I did not ask him what time the train left," and the other girl laughed teasingly. The first girl shook her head. "I guess I don't care." she said, defiantly, " He's good-looking, whether he's a Frenchman or a Timbuctooter, and goodlooking men can't be spoken to every day." Mr Hastings wanted to thank her for that, hut he gave no sign, only he felt his right ear growing warmer. " Well, you'd better be careful how you talk," suggested the" other girl, "for he may think he is the subject of conversation and get at the meaning by intuition. These foreigners can guess aa shrewdly as a Yankee." The train had started hy this time and Hastings changed his position slightly, so that he could hear better. The first girl looked at him cautiously, but with interest. "I say, Clara," she ventured, "he has pretty eyes, hasn't lie — for a man ? Blue js a dangerous colour, they say, but he looks as safe as a life preserver, doesn't he F" Mr Hastings became very muoh interested in his novel. "For goodness' sake, don't let him see you looking at him," warned the other girl, as she gazed intensely upon the upholstering of the seat in front of her. "If wewanttotalk about him — and there isn't any thing, else to talk about — we've got to appear absorbed in something else. Now, wait, and I'll lookout of the window beyond him, and while I gaze at the scenery I'll take him in." The firat girl concluded she would look at the cenery also, and Hastings concluded he would look at the girls. He did so, and on the instant three pairs of conscious eyes looked elsewhere. "My," exolaimed the first girl, «' what did he ever look around for ? " " Wanted to see us, of course," was the logical reply. "He has probably seen this scenery until he is tired of looking at it." " I'll venture he hasn't seen himself until he is tired of looking at himself," said the first girl. " Did you notice what little feet he has. Pretty patent leathers, too. Do you know," she went on, " that big-brained men have big feet and Mr Hastings wished heartily that he wore a No. 14, large. He was about to drag his feet in out of sight, hut bethought himself in time, and let' the patent leathers He there helpless beforo the ' criticism of his companions. "I suppose there are exceptions," said the other girl apologetically. " Oh, of course, but whether he is one or not I haven't any means of judging. See if you can . find out what book he is reading." In spite of himself Mr Hastings moved, and , in the moving the book was turned, so the girls could not see the title. They looked at each other questioningly. Mr Hastings was absolutely unconscious of. their existence. . "Pshaw," exclaimed the first girl, "what did he do that for? .He wears a diamond ring on his third finger. See? Kind of a cluster, too. What wretched ta.te. Men in Franco have such horrid tuste in dress, anyway. Now, look at that cravat. Maroon. Whoever heard of a maroon cravat to match blue eyes?" Mr Hastings wondered what he was there for, but didn't dare say anything. . " They ought to have their clothes made in America," suggested the other girl. "Or marry American wives," amended tho first girl. ' " Not any for me," contended the other girl. ' "It's bad enough to havo an American for a hu_band, and a foreigner is simply past con- \ sidering." .'.•'.. 1 "But what if hehas a titlo?" s "Quite tbe same; quite the same. What i money I have can be expended much more ; j to my satisfaction than, in buying a title with I it; unless itis a title to productive real estate." i j Mr Hastings ventured a glance at the proi . mulgator of such unexpected sentiments. She • was undeniably handsome, and he wanted, to look '.'. longer, but he dared not. I j The other girl gate a slight sniff. I I "Pshaw," she said, "he smokes cigarettes." j "That's a misfortune rather than a fault," ex- , ? plained the firat girl, and Mr Hastings subsided • j into the corner. "It is a weakness that we should i"\ pity aB strongly. as we condemn the men \yho sell > ; the cigarettes." ■ '; " I'll not discuss th? question," said the other ' girl. "What interests me more is how ie can keep those whiskers sharpened down to such a , ' point, without jabbing holes in his shirt front, aa i he sits there serouched down like that picture , of his illustrious countryman, N. Bonaparte, ! Esq." i 1 Mr Hastings was forced to smile, hut he kept his eyes on his book. , ■ ; "The mean thing," exclaimed tho first girl, • "he's laughing at something in that book. I'll 1 bet a cookie he wouldn't dare to read it to us. , Those Frenoh novels are horrid." ) "It's all right for men to read them, though,'' ' moralised the other girl. "It doesn't hurt the men, no matter how bad they are, but it would bo dreadful for us girls to read them, and still it doesn't seem to make the men any less fit com- • ! panions and friends for us, does it ?" I i Mr Hastings ventured another peer, shut up •

the book, dropped it on tho seat next to him, and fixod him.olf for a nap. Tho first girl took a quick glance at tho volume. It was one of "ffulee Verne's. "Why," she exclaimed, "look at that. It's as harmless as a spoonful of pnregoric. I guess ho must be a regular tuammn's boy." Evidently ebe was disappointed hi either Mr Hastings' moral tone, or her own lack of judgment in her original conclusion ' regarding his ! tastes. . -. "Itis a pity," , condoled the other girl, " tV.at ho isn't quite tip to yoiir standard. But don't be hasty. He's;' fixed himself' for a nap, and we'll see it ho snores. Goodness gracious, a snore from that clw-sib nose would be n sacrilege." . ;" If iie.vsnoro. ," ' snid the first girl, 'stamping, herfoot, "I'll lose all rospect for him. The idea of a man snoring, and a young man, too is simply pvopostevous. ■ Tust look nt that lovely moustache, Gam ; hn is so proud of it that ho can't oven hide it under that newspitper when ho is asleep." Hastings gavo a little start as the train jarret]* and the newspaper slipped down until his entire face was, hidden afcd*' tie felt as if he should smother. •'•• ■ ■■■ ■' • • '* '"■Well,*? sighed the other girl, " our darling boy seems to have grown tired of us and wi'h- ; drawn frorh publio gaze. I think 1 it bliows ,bad manners and bald taste," and she plumed herself with mock appreciation of hor own beauty and attractiveni-ss. : . "It is probable that the poor young man is married and woman make him tired," said the first girl. " Tired of the one he has and tired of himself because he can't get some other one. In any ovpnt T'm <roing to rend ahd watch h'm, and if he, Fnores something's going to happon'" " V.ry well," assented the other girl ; " you watch and I'll tpke a nnp," and she proceeded to make herself comfortab'e. Mr JTastingt really went to sleep when this cdi« Tying conversation ceased, but whether he snored or not he couhln' t say. I Five minutes after he was awake though, he did snore, and thtifc vigorously. "Clara, Clara," ho heard tha first girl say, as she shook her drowsy friend, " listen." | The other girl opened her eyeß heavily. "What is. it?'.' she asked. "Thunderstorm rising?" ■■...-■'■';.■ ; . *, , ', .* ! The first girl pointed to Mr Hastihgs in the ■corner. .' ; -.'- .*. : .* .■ „ *'■.■ i "Of all things!" she exclaimed. I " iriiat. classic hose," sighed the other girl, and • relapsed iatt) Tbo train rushed ori. Mr Hastings resumed his book after a time. Both girls dozed andread . alternately. The chiiporon enjoyed herself as best she could, and at last Paris was reached.' . The girls wero more interested in Paris now than thfy wwi9 in Hastings. They chattered away gaily, and finally, when tho train stopped, they hurried out to meet "Harry," whoever Harry was, and Hastings Was anxious about that, hut no Harry was there. Several minutes passed and still no Harry, and the three ladies began to show signs of distress. It /whs apparent that they were new iv tho city and that Preach was an unknown language to them. Hastings kept- in hearing until he saw that ho could be of. real service. He passed near the disconsolate trio. "There goes that lovely thing," said the first girl. " Snore,. or. no 'snore, if he could speak a word of English I'd make bitn fall in here on the spot and help us out." Mr Hastings approached the group. ■ ''.I leg your pardon, ladies," he said in very excellent America^, " if I can be of any service to you whatever, command me." Of course the chaperon didn't know what made the girls blush and stammer so,' but Hastings did, and he smiled grimly. They gave.him the addross of their hotel, gavo " Harry" a raiting, and at laßfc were safely on their way to their destination. "I thoughtl should die," gasped the firat girl.. "Myhearf; just quit flopping right there," said the other girl, and then they both laughed • hysterically. " Thank heaven !" exclaimed the first girl, " he doesn't know who wo are, and we'll never see him again. The horrid thing !" ' "Amen the othor girl, fervently. They weraMJ&layed. on the way to the hotel, and when thfey arrived Harry, the neglectful Harry, was standing near the entrance talking to a man. "Oh, Harry !" they both fairly screamed with delight 09 they jumped out of the carriage and rushed upon him. The man talking to Harry, looked up and both girls stopped still. " What's the .piatter?" exclaimed Harry, boisterously. " Afraid of my friend Hastings? Here Hastings," he said, "let? me present you to my fiancee, Miss Clara Breton, and my sister Harriet and," — raising his voice—" to our dear old chaperonj Aunt Mary. liadies, this is Mr Frank Hastings, my friend and accomplice," and Harry laughed and Aunt Mary laughed, but the two young women and Mr Hastings aeemed to be embarrassed and did not laugh. Harry insisted upon an explanation and got it at last, and a month later he said to his sister, after she had told him something or other, apparently very important to her : " But, Harriet, dear, he snores." And Harriet boxed his ears and blushed.