The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-03-15

A STORY IN THREE PARTS, BY "OUIDA.
p A r T II.

silent tears. it would have been positively de-
ightful to have had storm. But, no.-for an
ipstant she looked at me with uns2eakable re-
proach the next her doves eyes filled, she
sighed, she left the room Do they not say that
feather beds offer admirable defense against
bullets9 ! feel like the bullet which has been
fred into the feather bed. The feather bed
is victorious. / see the Rue des Planches
through the perspective of the watery atmos-
phere; the Casino seems to smile at
me from the end of the interminable
lime tree avenue which is one of the
chief beauties of this house; but, alas, they are
both as far off as if Trouvie were in the moon.
What could tLey do to me if came alone. Do
you know what they could do? l have not the
remotest idea but imagine something fright
/ full They shut up their public houses by force,
and their dancing places. Perhaps they would
shut up me. In England they have great be-
lief in creating virtue by act of Parliament In
myself this enforced virtue creates such revolt
that shall tirer sur le mors, and fly before
very long. The admired excellence Of this beau
tiful estate is that it lies in a ring-fence l
feel that | shall take leap over that ring
fence. Do not mistake me, cara mia Teresina.
| am exceedingly fond of my wife. think her
! quite lovely, simple, sanity and truly woman
I like. She is exquisitely pretty and en-
tirely without vanity; and l am certain
she is immeasureably my superior morally,
and possibly mentally, too But there is always
such long and melancholy but attached
to marriage--she does not amuse me in the least.
She is always the same. She is shocked at
nearly everything that is natural or diyerting.
| She thinks me humanity because / dislike rain.
She buttons about her hideous, straight, water
proof garment, and walks out in deluge. She
bushes if try to make her laugh at Figaro and
she goes out of the room when l mention Trou
vile. What am I to do with woman like this2
1t is an admirable type, no doubt. Possibly. if
she had not shut me up in % country house in
wet June with the thermometer at 10 r, and
the barometer fixed at the word ''rainy," might
have been always charmed with this ST. Doro
thea-like atttute, and never have found out the
monotony of it, But as it isl yawn till | dis
locate my neck. She thinks me heather al
ready. am convinced that very soon she will
think me brute. And l am neither / only
want to get out like the bird in the cage 1t is
a worn simile but it is such true one"
From the Duchessa d Aquila Fulva, Roches Noires,
Trouv;lle, to Prince d San Zenone Coombe Bysset.
'Piero Mio-In marriage the male bird is al
ways wanting to get out, when the female bird
does not want him to get OUT also, she is forever
tightening the wires over his head. and declaring
that nothing can be more delightful than the
| perch which she sits on herself Come to us
here. There are any quantities of birds here
who ought to be in their cages, but not and
manage to enjoy themselves quand meme. If
only you had married Nicoletta She might have
torn your hair occasionally, but she would never
have bored you. There is only one supreme art
necessary for woman: it is to thoroughly under
stand that she must never be seccatura. A
woman may be beautiful, admirable, paragon
| of virtue marvel Of intellect, but if she be
! seccatura--addio. Whereas, she may be plain,
| small, nothing to look at in any way, and very
monster of SINS big and little but if she know
how TO amuse your dull sex she is mistress of
you ALL 1t is evident that this great art is not
studied at Coombe Bysset"
From the Princess di San Zenone Coombe Byss ct to-
the Lady Gwendolen, Chcester St Petersburg.
"Oh my Dear Gwen-It is too dreadful, and
| am utterly wretched. | cannot tell you
! what feel He is quite determined to go to
Trouville by Paris at once, and just now it is
, such exquisite weather. 1t has only rained
three times this week, and the whole place is
| literally bower of roses of every kind. He has
been very restless the last few days, and at last,
yesterday, after dinner, he said straight out
that he had had enough Of Coombe, and he
thought we might be seen at Homburg or Trou
vile next week And he pretended to want
| every kind of thing that is to be bought at
Paris and nowhere else. Paris-when we have
been together just twenty nine days to-day!
! Paris-I don't know why, but I feel as if it
would be the end of everything. Paris--we
shall dine at restaurants We shall stay
at the Windsor we shall go to
he belongs to the Petit Cercle and
the Mirilton; we shall be just like anybody else;
! like all the million and-o one married people who
are always in a crowd. TO take ones born
happiness to hotel 1t is as profane as to say
your prayers on the top of drag. To me it is
| quite horrible. And it will be put in Galignini
directly, of course, that the Prince and Princess
San Zenone have arrived at the Hotel BRISTOL
And then all the pretty women who tried to flirt
/ with him before will laugh, and say: There you
see she has bored him already Everybody will
say SO, for they all know | wished to spend the
whole summer at Coombe. If he would only go
! to his own country would not say word. 1
am really longing to see his people. and his pal
aces, and the wonderful gardens with their stat
ues and their lick woods. and the temples that
are as old as the days of Augustus,
and the fre-fies, and the magnolia
! groves and the peasants who are always
! singing But he wont go there. He says
! it is seccatura. Everything is seccatura
He only likes places where he can meet all the
world. Paris will be solitude, too, never
fear he said, very petuantly; for there will be
all the petits theatres and the open air concerts,
and we can dine in the Bots, and down the river,
and we can run to Trouville. it will be better
! than rain, rain, rain: and nothing to look at ex-
cept your amiable aunts big horses and big
trees. L adore horses. and trees are not bad if
they are planted away from the house. but
viewed as eternal companions, may have too
much of them And am his eternal compan-
ion but it seems already I don't count! / have
not said anything. / know one ouehtn't. But
Piero saw how it vexed me, aud it made him
cross Cara mia. he said why did you not tell
me before we married that you intended me to
| be buried forever in box under wet leaves like
a rose that is being sent to the markets l
should have known what to expect, and do not
like wet leaves / could not help reminding
him that he had been ever. ever So anxious to
y yerv CT cross too Gould tell ANNA ma i S hs
cried that Coombe was situated in succession