Hearts and Masks | Page 7

enormous stakes you
have won and the wonderful draws you have made. I frowned. It was
not possible for me to figure out what his interest in the card was. If he
was a Westerner, his buying a pistol in a pawnshop was at once
disrobed of its mystery; but the inconsistent elegance of his evening

clothes doubled my suspicions. Bah! What was the use of troubling
myself with this stranger's affairs? He would never cross my path
again.
In reasonable time the cab drew up in front of my apartments. I dressed,
donned my Capuchin's robe and took a look at myself in the pier-glass.
Then I unwrapped the package and put on the mask. The whole made a
capital outfit, and I was vastly pleased with myself. This was going to
be such an adventure as one reads about in the ancient numbers of
Blackwood's. I slipped the robe and mask into my suit-case and lighted
my pipe. During great moments like this, a man gathers courage and
confidence from a pipeful of tobacco. I dropped into a comfortable
Morris, touched the gas-logs, and fell into a pleasant dream. It was not
necessary for me to start for the Twenty-third Street ferry till nine; so I
had something like three-quarters of an hour to idle away. . . . What
beautiful hair that girl had! It was like sunshine, the silk of corn, the
yield of the harvest. And the marvelous abundance of it! It was true that
she was an artist's model; it was equally true that she had committed a
mild impropriety in addressing me as she had; but, for all I could see,
she was a girl of delicate breeding, doubtless one of the many whose
family fortunes, or misfortunes, force them to earn a living. And it is no
disgrace these days to pose as an artist's model. The classic oils,
nowadays, call only for exquisite creations in gowns and hats;
mythology was exhausted by the old masters. Rome, Paris, London;
possibly a bohemian existence in these cities accounted for her ease in
striking up a conversation, harmless enough, with a total stranger. In
Paris and Rome it was all very well; but it is a risky thing to do in
unromantic New York and London. However, her uncle had been with
her; a veritable fortress, had I over-stepped the bounds of politeness.
The smoke wavered and rolled about me. I took out the ten of hearts
and studied it musingly. After all, should I go? Would it be wise? I
confess I saw goblins' heads peering from the spots, and old Poe stories
returned to me! Pshaw! It was only a frolic, no serious harm could
possibly come of it. I would certainly go, now I had gone thus far.
What fool idea the girl was bent on I hadn't the least idea; but I easily
recognized the folly upon which I was about to set sail. Heigh-ho!

What was a lonely young bachelor to do? At the most, they could only
ask me to vacate the premises, should I be so unfortunate as to be
discovered. In that event, Teddy Hamilton would come to my
assistance. . . . She was really beautiful! And then I awoke to the
alarming fact that the girl in Mouquin's was interesting me more than I
liked to confess.
Presently, through the haze of smoke, I saw a patch of white paper on
the rug in front of the pier-glass. I rose and picked it up.
NAME: Hawthorne COSTUME: Blue Domino TIME: 5:30 P. M.
RETURNED: ADDRESS: West 87th Street
FRIARD'S
I stared at the bit of pasteboard, fascinated. How the deuce had this got
into my apartments? A Blue Domino? Ha! I had it! Old Friard had
accidentally done up the ticket with my mask. A Blue Domino;
evidently I wasn't the only person who was going to a masquerade.
Without doubt this fair demoiselle was about to join the festivities of
some shop-girls' masquerade, where money and pedigree are
inconsequent things, and where everybody is either a "loidy" or a
"gent." Persons who went to my kind of masquerade did not rent their
costumes; they laid out extravagant sums to the fashionable modiste
and tailor, and had them made to order. A Blue Domino: humph!
It was too late to take the ticket back to Friard's; so I determined to mail
it to him in the morning.
It was now high time for me to be off. I got into my coat and took down
my opera hat. Outside the storm was still active; but the snow had a
promising softness, and there were patches of stars to be seen here and
there in the sky. By midnight there would be a full moon. I got