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    A Few Short Sketches
    A Few Short Sketches
    A Few Short Sketches
    Ebook73 pages36 minutes

    A Few Short Sketches

    By Douglass Sherley

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 25, 2013
    A Few Short Sketches

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      Book preview

      A Few Short Sketches - Douglass Sherley

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Few Short Sketches, by Douglass Sherley

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: A Few Short Sketches

      Author: Douglass Sherley

      Release Date: February 1, 2005 [EBook #14855]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FEW SHORT SKETCHES ***

      Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia, and the Online

      Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.

      A Few

      Short Sketches

      By Douglass Sherley

      Printed by

      John P. Morton & Co.

      Louisville, Kentucky, U.S.A.

      MDCCCXCIII

      COPYRIGHTED BY DOUGLASS SHERLEY,

      1892

      [Transcriber's Note: unusual spellings have been retained as in the original.]

      THOSE RUSSIAN VIOLETS

      TO

      LADY VIOLET

      I

      THOSE RUSSIAN VIOLETS

      There had been a brilliant reception at the house of Mrs. Adrian Colburn in honor of her guest—a most attractive young woman—from the East. The hours were brief, from five to seven. I had gone late and left early, but while there had made an engagement with Miss Caddington for the large ball to be given that night by the Boltons.

      Miss Caddington was a debutante. She had been educated abroad, but had not lost either love of country or naturalness of manner. During the short but fiercely gay season from October to Christmas she had made many friends, and found that two or three lovers were hard to handle with much credit to herself or any real happiness to them.

      She was not painfully conscientious, nor was she an intentional trifler; therefore she was good at that social game of lead on and hold off.

      Call at nine, she said, and I will be ready.

      But she was not ready at nine. The room where I waited was most inviting. There were several low couches laden with slumber-robes and soft, downy pillows, all at sweet enmity with insomnia. The ornaments were few but pleasing to the eye. Art and her hand-maiden, Good Taste, had decorated the walls. But there was a table, best of all, covered with good books, and before it, drawn in place, an easy-chair. An exquisite china lamp, with yellow shade, shed all the light that was needed. Everywhere there were feminine signs—touches that were delightful and unmistakable.

      From somewhere there came a rich oriental odor. It intoxicated me with its subtle perfume. I picked up After-Dinner Stories (Balzac), then a translation from Alfred de Musset, an old novel by Wilkie Collins, The Guilty River; but still that mysterious perfume pervaded my senses and unfitted me for the otherwise tempting feast spread before me. I looked at the clock; it was nine thirty. I turned again to the table, and carelessly reached out for a pair of dainty, pale tan-colored gloves. Then I seized them eagerly and brushed them against my face; I had found the odor. The gloves were perfumed. They had been worn

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