Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1890-11-10
A Walk up the Avenue.


some woman's face had nodded
brightly to him from passing brough-
am, and that he had lifted his hat
through force of habit, and without
knowing who she was.
He stopped at the bottom of the
steps, and stood for moment uncer-
talnly, and then turned towards the
north, not because he had any deli
mite goal in his mind, but because
the other way led towards his rooms,
and he did not want to go there yet.
He was conscious of a strange feel
ing of citation, which he attributed to
his being free, and to the fact that
he was his own master again IN ev-
erything. And with this he confess
ed 10 distinct feeling of littleness,
of having acted meanly or unworthl-
ly of himself or of her.
And yet he had behaved well, even
quixotically. He had tried to leave
the impression with her that it was
her wish, and that she had broken
with him, not he with her.
He teld a man who threw a girl
over, as the phrase is, as something
contemplate, and he certainly did
not want to appear to himself IN that
light or, for her sake, that people
should think that he had tired of her,
or found her wanting in any one par
ticular. He knew only too well how
people would talk. How they would
say he had never really cared for her;
that he didn't know his own mind
when he had proposed to her; and
that it was a great deal better for
her as it is than if he had grown out
of humor with her later. AS to their
saving she had Tilted him, he didn't
mind that. He much preferred they
should take that view of it, and he
was chivalrous enough to hope she
would think so too.
He was walking slowly, and had
reached Thirteenth street. A great
many young girls and women had
bowed to him or nodded from the
passing carriages, but it did not tend
to disturb the measure of his tho
He was used to having people put
themselves out to speak to him; ev-
erybody made point of knowing
him, not because he was so very
handsome and well-looking, and an
over-popular youth, but because he
was as yet unspoiled by it.
But, in any event, he concluded, it
was a miserable business. Still, he
had only done what was right. He
had seen it coming on for month
now lard how much better it was that
they should separate now than later,
OF that they should have had to live
separated in all but location for the
rest of their livesi Yes, he had done
the right thing-decidedly the only
thing to do.
He was still walking up the avenue
and had reached Thirty-fifth street,
at which point his thoughts received
a sudden turn. A half-dozen men in
a club window nodded to him, and
brought to him sharply what he was
going back to. He had dropped out
of their lives as entirely of late as
though he had been living in dis
tant city. When he had met them
he had found their company uninter-
esting and Improbable. He had won
dered how be had ever cared for that
sort of thing, and where had been
the pleasure of it. Was he going
back now to tho gossip of that win
dow, to the heavy discussions of
traps and horses, to late breakfasts
and early suppers? Must he listen to
their congratulations on his being one
of them again, and must he guess at
their whispered conjectures as to how
soon it would be before he again took
ND the chains and harness of theil
fashion? He struck the pavement
sharply with his stick. No, he was
not going back.
She had taught him to find amuse-
ment and occupation in many things
that were better and higher than any
pleasures or pursuits he had known
before, and he could not give then
| up. He had her to thank for that a
least. And he would give her credit
for it too, and gratefully. He woulC
always remember it, and he woule
show in his way of living the infiu
ence and good effects of these three
months in which they had been con
! tinually together.
E He had reached Forty-second stree
now.
Well. it was over with, and h
would get to work at something o
> other. This experience had show
him that he was not meant for mar
rage; that he was intended to Inv
> alone. Because if he found that
girl as lovely as she undenlably wa
palled on him after three months,
was evident that he would never llv
trough life with any other one. Yes
he would always be bachelor. IL
: had lived his life, had told his stor
/ at the age of twenty-five, and woul
e wait patiently for the end, marke
and gloomy man. He would trayt
S now and see the world. He woul
n 90 to that hotel in Cairo she wa
u always talking about, where they wer
to have gone on their honeymoon
: or he might strike further into Africs