Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1880-12-28
REJECTED.

| sHliiDS, tHc WholS piStuic suSSSS'NS VI
youth and happiness.
Half an hour later the picture was
changed. A woman sat there, rigid, pal
lid, stricken with sudden age; the eyes
filled with great despair, the mouth
hopeless in its painful compression. Yet
Barbara Walker had not exchanged her
seat with any one; the change had come
to her swift, sudden. appalling. The
pos,man gave a letter into the out
stretched hands of young girl in the
morning of life and love. The letter,
opened and read, fell from the nerveless
hand of a woman. matured by sudden and
awful horror. Only another man faith
less, another life blighted. Only the old
story
Dear friend Barbara" the letter be-
gan. All, God how like the keen cut
OF sword that word friend goes to the
heart when it takes the place of another,
dCarcr word
DEAR FRIEND BARBARA-l fear you will
be somewhat surprised at what / feel CON-
perlcd 10 write you. For weeks | have
been conscious of a growing change in my
sentiments toward you. What thought
was love was only fancy-the result OF as
socation. knowing this, | could never
make you happy AZ my wife. Therefore.
| trust YOU will give me my freedom as
give you yours, and always think OF me as
your friend, HOWARD Snow.
Do YOU know what it is to see a great
hope die to have the happiness that
makes all of life for you crushed with one
blow from the hand OF fate Do you
know what it is to drop from monday
heights ofjoy to the depth of darkest mid
night, Ii you do need not try to tell
you of the days and weeks that followed
for Barbara Walker. II you do not, it
will be useless for me to try; for only
through experience, or close companion
ship with an awful sorrow, are We en-
ablcd to comprehend it.
And while she sat in the shadows
struggling with her stricken young heart,
that knew not how TO entertain the
stranger, pain, striving vainly to pierce
the impenetrable gloom that shrouded
her, two hundred miles away Howard
Snow basked in the sunlight Of another
womans smile.
He was not cruel or a heartless man.
But his better impulses, his sympathies,
his regard for the feelings of Others, were
all lost in an intatuation for one of Circes
descendants.
Howard Snow was only twenty-three,
and Helen Thomas was thirty. One of
those women who ripen like a peach in
the sun. and TO whom mature years add
only richer charms. Rightly directed.
her life might have been of rare useful
ness and power, for she possessed that
strong magnetic charm that sways the
world. But she used it only to draw
men to her feet. Her love of conquest
was like drunkard's craving thirst for
drink.
Howard Snow was the only desirable
young man in the little village where she
chanced to be spending few months
with relative.
"He has the face of Greek god, she
said, "but it needs strong emotion to per-
feet it,.
"He is engaged to lovely girl, a fresh
wild rose. OF womanhood, who visited
here last summer" said her relative.
"Ah," !" responded Helen, and dropped
her lashes. But she was wondrous cor
dial and alluring when she next met
Howard Snow.
1t was an easy conquest. He was
unused to women like Helen Thomas,
and he did not know himself. She
played upon the slumbering passions of
his nature, and set his blood on fire by
the soft touches Of her caressing hands
and the languor Of her glances.
1t was the old story Of a young mans
infatuation for woman older than him
self. 1t blinded his judgment and blunt
ed his sense of right and wrong, and
made him conscious of but one desire in
life-to be free, and under no obligation
to any woman bu; his Circe. His bonds
to Barbara Walker grew hateful, and
she seemed to him child, whose weak
ness would be drag upon him always.
So he freed himself, and for a month
was happy with drunkard's happiness.
Then his better nature awoke with sud-
den shock. He spoke Of marriage to
Helen Thomas and she laughed in his face.
And her laughter had ring Of scorn
in it.
Then he went his way, with face
that bore the marks Of "strong emotions"
which Helen Thomas thought it needed
to perfect, and heart that was bitter
and cynical. H. thought Of Barbara
Walker with strange tenderness, but
with no idea Of consulting her with any
attempt at a renewal of old ties. He
felt no love for her, in truth; only he felt
his own baseness and lack of stability.
She was to him like child he had cruel
ly hurt, and he was filed with tender
pity. For Helen he grew to feel only
scorn. Her hold upon him had been
solely physical, and when man grows
to notice that, the woman is sure to be
scorned.
He applied himself to his profession,
and made a success of it. He grew rich,
prosperous, popular with men, but feared
BY women, for his sarcasm was unsparing
and his wit always two-edged. Yet
manageable women sought after him,
for he had personal attractions added to
his wealth and influence, and seemed a