Fashion and Famine

by Ann S. Stephens

"Monsieur is magnificent," said the man, taking the piece of gold with a profound bow. "He shall see how invisible I shall become."

Leicester stole back to the reception rooms again, and glided into the group that still surrounded the hostess, unobserved as he thought; but those who watched Ada closely, would have seen the apathy, that had crept over her during his absence, suddenly flung off, while her manner and look became wildly brilliant once more. At this moment Night and Morning drew closer to the pillar, and sheltered themselves behind it.

"Here he comes—here comes the postman," cried half a dozen young ladies at once; "who will get a letter now? Mrs. Gordon, of course!"

One of the first lawyers of the State entered the room, acting the postman with great diligence and exactitude. He carried a bundle of letters on his arm, and held some loose in his hands. There was a great commotion among the young ladies when he presented himself, a flirting of fans and waving of curls that might have tempted any man from his course. He turned neither to the right nor left, but marching directly up to Leicester, presented a letter with "Two cents, sir, if you please."

Leicester as gravely took the letter, drew a five-cent piece from his pocket, and placed it in the outstretched hand of the postman, with, "The change, if you please."

A burst of laughter followed this scene; but the postman, no way disconcerted, placed the five-cent piece between his teeth, while he searched his pocket for the change. Drawing forth three cents, he counted them into Leicester's palm, and strode on again, as if every mail in the United States depended on his diligence. Leicester stood a moment with the letter in his hand, smiling and seemingly a little embarrassed about opening it!

Ada glanced sharply from the letter to his face. Even then she was struck with a jealous pang that made her recoil with self-contempt.

"No! no—that will never do," called out voices all around, as Leicester seemed about to place the note in his pocket—"All letters are public property here—break the seal—break the seal!"

With a derisive smile on his lip, as if coerced into doing a silly thing, he broke the seal and unfolded the missive. A tress of golden hair dropped to his feet, which he snatched up hurriedly, and grasped in his hand. A burst of gay laughter followed the act.