The Cincinnati Daily Star

THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER.

No handsome young fellow was ever deeper in love with a pretty girl than Walter Conroy was with Minnie Scanlan. Walter had been a flirt, and she had been a flirt, but soon after they met for the first time at a picnic up the Hudson, both of them seemed to bid adieu to all past frivolities, and to settle down at once in the great kingdom of true love.

In personal appearance they were exact antithesis. He was tall and dark, and she was "petite and fair, with golden hair."

Walter was a traveling salesman at a moderate salary, while Minnie was the only daughter of a book-keeper in Brooklyn.

They had been engaged for some six months, and the wedding day was set for the 15th of June, when Walter was suddenly called to Texas by important business for the firm. Being just at that time in the heyday of his courtship, he departed for the Lone Star State with great reluctance, and started on his return as soon as circumstances would possibly permit him to do so.

It was a beautiful bright day in May when Walter Conroy took his seat in an express train at Philadelphia bound for New York City.

On the seat immediately opposite him were two vivacious young ladies, whose faces he thought he had seen elsewhere, but being in no mood for renewing female acquaintances, he regarded them quite listlessly until in the midst of their gossipy conversation he caught his own name.

"Yes," said one, "that Walter Conroy was really a handsome man, although too much on the Spanish style to suit my taste. Did you ever meet him except at the picnic where he surrendered to Minnie Scanlan?"

"No, I never did; and would hardly know him now if I should see him. He is away—somewhere in the South, and perhaps has another girl by this time. There's no depending on those drummers."

"I wonder if he knows what a terrible flirt Minnie used to be? Perhaps if he did he wouldn't stay away so long."

"They say he's awfully jealous."

"That's just the opinion I formed of him at the picnic."

"Why?"

"O, he had such black eyes and such a fierce black mustache."

"Nellie Craig, who lives next door to Minnie, told me she believed that young Conroy was even jealous of her."

"Minnie don't go with Nellie so much since she took such a desperate fancy to Francis Blaine."

"That's so. I never saw two people more devoted to each other than she and Francis are. You know they both live near Prospect Park? Well, they have been rambling over the park every clear day for a month, gathering wildwood flowers. Mrs. Scanlan says Minnie some times don't even come home to lunch. Francis is rich, you know, and generous and they take lunch at the Casino."

"I wonder what Walter Conroy will say to all that when he gets back?"

"Well, I suppose if he is as foolishly jealous as reported he will get up tantrums; but I don't believe Minnie will give up Francis. She's very independent."

"I wouldn't blame her if she didn't. What did Walter go away for just at that time? I suppose Minnie missed him terribly at first, and wanting somebody to love she took up with Francis Blaine."

"Well, Francis is rich and liberal and good company, and if I were Minnie Mr. Conroy could make the best of it with his big black mustache."

The train now stopped at Elizabeth and the garrulous girls got off, little knowing how they had hurled a fellow-passenger from the acme of happiness to the lowest depths of misery and rage.

The train sped onward.

That evening, faultlessly attired, Walter Conroy rang Book-keeper Scanlan's door-bell and sent in his card to Minnie. He was not detained long in the humble though tidy parlor. In a few moments the door flew open and Minnie rushed in, exclaiming:

"O, Walter!"

"Good evening, Miss Scanlan," replied the gentleman, very coolly.

Minnie was just about to seat herself beside him on the sofa, but drew back, exclaiming:

"Why, Walter! what's the matter?"

"Yes! 'what's the matter?'" he echoed scornfully. "You don't know what's the matter. Of course not! You are a remarkably innocent young lady."

"Walter, what is the matter?" she repeated, seating herself on the sofa and placing her hand on his shoulder. "If I've done anything, for Heaven's sake let me know what it is."

"Well, Minnie," he replied, "to come directly to the point, then, this Francis Blaine business has got to be stopped, or all is at an end between us. But," he added, sarcastically, "as this Francis is rich, I guess it won't take you long to decide."

"Now, Walter, I would really hate to give up Frances; but I'll see about it. Will that do you, Mr. Jealousy?"

"No; it won't do me. The matter must be settled now or never, Minnie," he continued. "I knew you were a flirt when I first met you; but my heart, somehow, told me you would be true to me. I fear I was grievously deceived. You must decide in the next five minutes between me and Frances Blaine."

"Walter, I really didn't think at first that you were so much in earnest; but, since I see that you are, I might as well say plainly and flatly that I won't give up Frances. You are entirely too unreasonable. I was lonesome after you left, and her father moved near here, and—"

"Her father!"

"Yes, her father."

"Her!"

"Yes, her. Can't you hear?"

"Then she's a girl?"

"Of course she's a girl. Did you think she was a mermaid, or a vampire? But, Walter, what makes you so queer to-night? I never saw—"

, Minnie would have said more, but her mouth was suddenly stopped up with somebody else's mouth, and somebody's arms were wrapped all around her, and a few seconds afterward somebody was stamping up and down the room, berating himself as the most egregious fool in the United States of America.

On the 15th of June, as previously arranged, the wedding came off, and Frances Blaine was first bridesmaid.

Walter says he's a little jealous of Frances yet, but as he got the best of her in their rivalry he won't complain.