AN EPISODE.

Waikato Times, Volume XLIII, Issue 3495, 17 November 1894, Page 11

AN EPISODE.

e It happened at Cannes, whore I had been spending ut few weeks with friends. The hotels were full of the usual crowd of English and American.", among whom were several .semi-professional beauties, aud a sprinkling (if the notables who \m to be found at a place like Cannes during the season. There were tennis and baseball matches, which gave the men something to do, and the women a chance to show their pretty toilettes out of doors. It was at one of these affairs that I first met you. I had been standing talking to one of the members of our party, when I heard •Ji'ok fay, " Helen, may I present the Hon. Razil Northcote ?" I glanced up, expecting to see the iismU type of the'tall, ruddy, yoiiLg Englishman, whose gnodnatured but vast egotism was apt to prove a trifle fattening in conversation. Instead, I looked into a thin, dark face, to which a pair of deep-set hazel eyes lent a certain peculiar beauty aud distinction. I had hoard your name mentioned as that of a lion, beginning to roar in the political arena, and I remember I asked you dome questions about a topic I knew you were interested in, because I wished to hear you talk, But you refused to be drawn , nut; with quiet courtesy vou led the conversation back to indifferent subjects That same evening— our p irty had beendanciuj* in one of the smaller rooms-yon came in and stood near me as I finished a waltz. Some impulse prompted me to speak 10 you, and presently we were sitting in the cool dusk outside, talking like old friends. I did not dinoe again, hut, instead, you brought down your violin and played for me. The memory of that uiiisic haunts me still; how wonderfully the soul of the master spoke through the instrument. I close ray eyes now aud see the stretch of deserted piazza, the soft dimness which enhanced the witchery of divine sounds. I woke the next morning strangely depressed only a few days more of my visit iemained, and then We were together most of that time, it was useless to struggle against theinterest you had for me. A certain strength of will, the masterful reserved force of a powerful character, had completely conquered my capriciousnature, I soon found I could not rule or manage you by means I employed w ith other men. Ah! those pleasant days, lying under the shade of the trees after a game of tennis fiercely contested, riding through the soft dusk in the wordless silence of perfect contempt, walking under the stars while the cool splash of the fountiling seemed to whisper of hope and happiness. And the finale—it was very simple,, very commonplace. My visit came to an end. We parted as friends-and I have never seen yon again. . , They tell me you have married, suitably and happily in your own set in England, and I see by the papers you are beginning to be looked upon as the leader of apowerful party. I am glad, and yet, though it would have been absurdly premature after only a week's acquaintance, somehow, in thosedays, I fancy you cared. ~. , But I must have been mistaken; as events have shaped themselves, I can see you could never have looked upon our friendship in any other light than that of a pleasant episode.