The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1889-07-20

verse book of the season. Critics praised
it; people read it, and, above all, the publ
bought it Its special feature was tn
piquancy given to it by the incongruity o
its democratic sentiments with the fac
that it was written by Countess "No
Wanted Life's Story" the most strik
ing piece in the volume, was a realistic
poem of real power and merit. 1t was ;
tale of desperate struggle against starva
ton
Probably the Countess had never beer
so happy in her life. From her former
position as a sprat among salmon she was
now raised to the rank of salmon among
minnows. People who had snubbed hel
now cultivated her. She received dinner
invitations from those who had formerly
sent her "At Home" cards. Her friends
became more friendly, her acquaintance
more numerous. The AtheReum called
her our greatest living poetess, the discern
ing reviewer remarking of the weakest
poem in the book, "surely this has in il
something of the inductiveness of vitality;
and even the Saturday vouchsafed enco-
miums.
Miss Emdem was to the full as happy
as the Countess in the success of "May-
blossoms" She had copied out the man
useript, corrected the proofs, designed the
cover. She collected the favorable reviews;
there were no unfavorable ones, for the
press was unanimous-as it ought to be in
praising a Countess. And she read and
reread the book with devotion that some
times made Mary almost impatient.
When Everard Dobbs wrote and asked
to be permitted to call and offer his hom-
age to the author of MAY blossoms, Miss
Emdeu and the Countess were equally
excited.
"Fve only met him twice, said the
Countess, ''to speak to, that is. | almost
wish he wasn't coming, I'm horribly afraid
he viii find me out.
How do you mean ?"
"Well, he will expect the author Of
May blossoms to shine more in converse
ton than she viii do"
aYou are much more brilliant than most
of the poets We know.
And Mary, mentally reviewing in fash
line of long-haired fabby youths, felt
her remark TO be just.
She had dressed herself to receive Mr.
Debbs's visit in gown whose fashionable
trimmings were more than usually elabor-
ate. She was now engaged in putting
the drawing room straight" as she called
it That is, she was dexterously obliterat-
ing all marks of human occupation and re
dueing the room to something between the
drawing room Of hotel and that repre-
sented on our national stage.
TWAS delicious May afternoon. Hamp-
stead Heath was prOfusely dotted with
nursemaids and perambulators.
Everard Dobbs, in his hansom, leaned
back and enjoyed through his piacenez the
beauty Of the day. Il was to him an hour
more interesting than his hours were wont
to be. He was a man whose unhealthy
social environment had proved too much
for his own healthy impulses. At five-
and-twenty he bad become an extreme
Radical, but his early expressions of his
changed views had been sneered aud laughed
at by his in,imates, aud he had reached
thirty without having ever found strength
enough to defy public opinion-which with
him, as with all ofus, meant the prejudiees
Of very narrow circle. The five years
struggle with his own moral consciousness
had left its marks upon him, and he was
unhappy He compounded with his con-
science for his eowardice By running the
aforementioned paper under an assumed
name, and BY subscribing out of an ample
income to several democratic and Socialist
societies. But the hush-money brought
him no comfort His own set voted him
''little mad on those questions, and prompt
" changed the conversation when he ap-
preached them, which he did rarely now.
His few wOrking-class acquaintances, while
they took his money, distrusted him, and
called him "dilettante."
May blossoms" encouraged him. Here
at last was a woman of his kind. Surely a
Countess, though only foreign one, would
be able to live with foot in both worlds
that of the "haves" and "have nots. By
her side he might be able to occupy the
same uncomfortable position.
And he inquired about the authoress,
not identifying her in his recollection with
a stout lady whom he had occasionally OBJ
served at receptions and concerts. The
poems haunted him, He read them again.
They were stronger than he had supposed.
They expressed not only subtle re6nements
Of sentiment and dainty fancies, but a
seriousness, determined championing of
the wronged and the oppressed wheih he
had not met with in the poetry of any
woman, and which he had never been quite
able to get into his own.
So he wrote and asked if he might call
upon her,
His mind was filed with the beauty Of
her poems, and when she came forward tC
meet him in her Partisan costume he bowed
low, rendered speechless by the emphasis
of the contrast between her poems and her
self. She held out her hand, which he tool
mechanically.
'Iovely weather, isn't it ?" she asked a
he seated himself
"Yes, quite perfect, he replied, as ear
nestly as though that needed saying, witt
the sun shining outside and the May air
blowing through the room,
He was violently disappointed. Fl
could not have said what he expected he