CHAPTER XI. LA PETITE AMERICAN.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 178, 13 November 1886, Page 8

C HAPTER XI. LA PETITE AMERICAN.

Louis Dujjbar —for he had refused to adopt; the name of Murray, notwithstanding he felt that it rightly belonged to him—remained with Mr Allen three years alter the «vent recorded in our last chapter. They brought plenty of hard work to him* and Bmall reward pecuniarily, though he realised that he was reaping a rich mental harvest, for he was making rapid strides in his education, and chiefly through his own efforts and perseverance. Twice during this time he had encountered his discarded father. Once he learned indirectly that the authorities had discovered and swooped down upon his gambling den, and that he had been arrested as its proprietor. He hunted him up, found that everything he owned had been confiscated and a fine imposed upon him. This he could not pay, because his partner, Black, had absconded, taking with him all their funds. fie seemed inclined to accuse Louis of having put the police upon hia track, but the young man grarely and positively denied all knowledge of the affair, and offered to procure his release by paying his fine if he would promise to abandon his illegal practices. He sullenly assented to this condition, but would not accept Louis's offer to procure him respectable employment, and for many months the young man knew nothing of his movements. At length, however, he sent him word that he was in trouble again, mnd thie time Loui3 feund that he had been arrested tor drunkenness. Again he paid his fine, and, as the man was destitute of funds, he gave him sufficient money 10 provide for the necessities of a week, during which time he hoped he Mould find means for supporting himself, and after that he heard nothing more for him for several years. Louia was now in his twentieth year, but he was as mature aa many men are at twenty-five or even thirty, while, he possessed a capacity for business that surprised Mr Allen. He had begun to think of the law as a profession for himself when he should have completed his other Ptudies, and he interested himself in many of the cajes which came to his employer, and not infrequently expressed opinions which that gentleman did not think beneath him to heed. One day a friend of Mr Allens came into the office for a social chat, and while thore broached the subject of ttock — telephone stock particularly, over which there was beginning to be considerable excitement, ana in which be had confessed he had invested quite largely. Louia pricked up his ears at once at the rather astonishing stories which this enthusiast was relating regarding the telephone, and secretly resolved that he would look into the matter for himself. Perhaps here was the very opportunity to make the prosperous turn upon Fortune's wheel which he a&d been wishing for co long. After his visitor had departed, he questioned Mr Allen further upon the subject, and asked what he thought about investing: in some of the stock. •• I think I shall risk something in this new enterprise, Louis ; it looks inviting and promising, and I believo the telephone will prove to be one of the most important inventions of our generation. I do not approve of speculations as a rule, "he added ; ** I should never think of ' putting up a margin,' or * dealing in futures' — 1 consider such operations no better than gambling ; hut purchasing legitimate stock, with the expectation of getting a fair interest for the money invested, seems to me perfectly honourable, although of course there is always some risk in it — but so there is in bu o inesB of almost every kind." From that day Louis became absorbed in the history of the telephone. Be procured whatever information he could, and thoroughly studied the whole subject. He looked into all its possibilities, visited various offices, questioned operators, inventore, and stockholders, until he knew the whole thing through and through, and wan posted upon every point. Then, one day he paid a visit to Farmer Brown, drew his small capital from his hands, and invested every dollar of it in telephone stock. So interested, so absorbed, did he become la this new invention, that he dissolved his connection with Mr Allen, entered one of the offices established in the city, with the intention of making himself a master in the business. He proved himself peculiarly adapted to it, rising step by step until he attained a responsible position. To those familiar with the history of the telephone, it will not seem incredible that at the end of two years Louis had acquired, by the careful handling of hia small capital, the sum of five thousand dollars, and had also been waited upon by some of his superior officers with the proposition that he would go abroad in the interests of tho company. " Isn't he rather young to bo intrusted with such responsible business ?" one of the directors had asked, when hh name was mentioned for position. " He is young in years," waB the reply ; "but he has an old head on his shoulders. " So to Europe Louis Dunbar went in the interests of the company, with an adequate salary, and rare opportunities for enriching himself by careful manipulation of the valuable stock of which he was a representative, and Paris'was to be his headauarters. Louis was delighted with Paris— it was such a grand, white, clean looking city with its broad, beautiful streets, its lofty buildings and everything upon a scale so magnificent and imposing. His life was a very busy one, for he was bound to do his very best for the company, and he entered into his new occupation with his whole heart, and everything promised to prove successful. But many things were to happen to him in this strange country. One day, not many weeks after hia arriral, he was passing through the Champs Elysees when a carriage, containing a gay party, suddenly relied past him.

Involuntarily he glanced up at its occupants, and thnn felt a sudden thrill run through ©very nerve, as ho caught, a glimpse of a fair, delicate face, with eyes of wonderful blue, looking out .from beneath a mist of shimmering golden hair. A sweet, silvery laugh rang but, then tho carriage was gone and he stood staring blankly after it, striving to collect his scattered wits and to grasp and trace the thread of memory which had thus been wafted toward him. Ifc was in vain, however : he could place neither face nor voice, and day after day he was haunted by the remembrance of it. One evening some weekß later, he attended a benefit concert given by amateur artists, both foreign and native, in the interests of some charitable organisation. More to pass the time than anything else — for his evenings were often lonely — Louis had resolved to go and to contribute his mite to a cause so worthy. The programme promised to be very entertaining, for there were Italian, German, and French artiste, while one song was advertised by " La Petite American." Louis wondered who tbia could be — no name bad been allowed to appear, and this fact of itself aroused his curiosity. Befoie "La Petite American's" turn arlived, Louis became aware that a pair of opera glasses were levelled at him from abox on his right at some little distance from him. At first he did not mind them, but as time after time they were lifted and brought to bear exactly upon him, he could not help thinking that some one was interested in studying his physiognomy, and finally, becoming annoyed by the persistent scrutiny, he lifted his own glaßa and returned fire. This act brought into distinct view a box containing three occupants— a lady of perhaps forty- five year 3, accompanied by another of twenty-two, and a gentleman about his own age, and this latter was the individual who had been observing him so closely. When ho caw Louis's glass raised and brought to bear in his directicn, he immediately dropped his, and turned to speak to the young lady sitting beside him, and thus Louis obtained a good view of him. He started as he looked. He knew that face. He recognised those keen, dark eyes, with their supercilious stare, that rather narrow brow, with its masses of raven hair lyinj* above it, and those thin aristocratic lip?, which always wore a half contemptuous expression. It was the face of Arthur Aspinwall, his former classmate and the bully of the school which he had attended when ho was living with Farmer Brown. He could not fail to know him, for Arthur had changed ye y little, except to grow older and bomewhat more polished in appearance. His companions he did not recognise, if, indeed, he had ever seen them before, though he could not fail to observe that the younger lady was a brilliant and beautiful brunette, whose every movement indicated ease and grace. While he looked, all three turned expectantly toward the stage, and Louia glanced at his programme. It was time for " La Petite American " to appear, and at that very moment the curtain arose. An instant later, a slender, graceful figure, clad in glistening folds of pale blue satin, emerged from behind a screen at the left of the stage and glided to her position before the foot-lights. Louis Dunbar held his breath, while a thrill shot through every nerve. He had never seen any one before who had seemed so beautiful to him. The maiden was perhaps twenty yeara of age ; her complexion wa9 like wax, except for a delicate bloom on either cheek ; her eyes wero so bright and lustrous that he could not discern their colour, while her hair was like a halo of sunshine above her pure white brow. Her drees was cut low at the neck, and was sleeveless, but both arms and neck were shaded by folds of noft, white tulle, and gleamed liko polished marble beneath the delicate lace. Like a flash it came to Louia who she was She was the vision that had shot by him that day in the Champs Ely?ees, and whose face and silvery laughter had haunted him ever since. It was the face of a little maiden which had been stamped so indelibly upon his youthful heart that he could never forget it, and he knew that he was gazing upon Margaret Houghton. She had come forward modestly, yet without a vestige of embarrassment, and stood calmly waiting while the orchestra played the prelude, then sounds of sweetest melody rose from that white, delicate throat and floated away among those lofty, gilded arches, while every listener sat spellbound by her beauty and enthralled by the gifted voice. She was not a Patti nor a Titien, nor even a Jenny Lind ; but she was a sweet unaffected maiden, with a magical power ot song, and she sent forth those pure, sweet tonea as freely as a bird, that, forgetful of pverytbing save the God-given impulse within him, allows his notes to trill, and quiver, and float up to heaven in joy and grateful prai«o for the gift within him. Not a sound, save her song and its subdued accompaniment, was audible in all that great house, and at length when her difficult aria was finished, she retreated with a modest grace that was simply charming. Enthusiastic applause followed, long and resolute, too, showing that the delighted multitude was not to be satisfied with one appearance of the fair American, and she was forced to come before thorn again, though it wa.=< evident that she did so reluctantly, and ?he sangasimpleFrench ballad to her French audience, and then, amid a shower of exotics, she bowed a smilling but resolute farewell and retreated again. Louis Dunbar's mind went back over the past to that ragged, barefooted boy who Btood one day looking between the bars of an iron gate at a sweet, blue-eyed little girl who wag so tender and pitiful toward him ; to a night in midwinter, where in a country school house this same beautiful maiden exonerated him from an unjust suspicion and restored him to the confidence and respect of his teacher and companions. He thought, too, of that childish letter that she had written him lately and which bad been such an inspiration to him all his life; she had said "she hoped she should meet him again when she returned from Europe, and should be glad to call him her friend." He wondered if she should be glad to meet him now ; if, indeed, she remembered him at all after all these years. She must have been abroad ever since that time, but he had not thought to find her here in Paris. It was a delightful surprise to him ; it aroused all his boyish reverence and admiration for her, and he resolved that he would make himself known to her and ascertain if she would still be willing to recognise him as a friend. , He imagined that the elder lady, whom he had seen in the box with Arthur Aspinwall, must be Mrs Houghton, for he had not failed to remark the eagerness, mingled with something of anxiety in her manner, as she turned toward the stage just before Margaret's appearance.

He watched them when the concert wm over, and was confirmed in this belief am he saw the whole party making their way toward the stage entrance. , Very quietly he followed them, and finally saw them disappear within a room at the end of a passage. For the moment he stood irresolute, the fear that he might be guilty of an unwarrantable intrusion holding him back. The next he walked boldly to the door, and knocked for admittance ; it was hia only opportunity, he told himself ; if he should let them go they would be lost among the hosts of that great city, and he vrould, perhaps, never see them again. His knock wa* answered almost immediately by a maid, who, perceiving that he was a stranger, regarded him curiously. Louis had not, unfortunately, a single oard with him, so he was forced to cay : "Will you kindly ask Miss Houghton if Bhe will receive a countryman, and an old acquaintance ?' The maid disappeared, but soon returned, smiling and paying in her broken English : u Oui t Monnieur ; mademoiselle vera happy to welcome old friends," and with these words she ushered him into the brilliantly lighted room