, 1891-08-07

nance, n tragedy If you like. or, il you
prefer, a genteel comedy that set me
thinking upon the question that heads
this paper.
1t was at a great reception, and among
the guests noticed n peculiarly sweet
and gentle young woman, elegantly
dressed, richly jeweled, and bearing the
unmistakable mark Of worldly pros
perity, but with it the equally Unmis-
taxable mark of n crushed and hopeless
life. She leaned upon the arm Of a man
whose broad, red face, sleepy eyes and
stupid mouth made me long to ylwn be-
hind my fan, or to put it in one word,
made me tired, although healsD looked
well to do, and very well Coutented with
himself and al his belongings, including
his lily of the valley wife, They passed
on and so did |, but presently found my
self, in company with "a man who knows
everything about everybody, near the
pretty lily as she stood all alone looking
sadder than ever.
"Who is she?' asked l.
"She2 Poor little soull She is one of
the great army Of martyrs who go
through the world whispering to them
selves, 1T might have beenr"
"What, or rather who, is her might
have beenY " asked /, and my companion
murmured;
Look and seer
Hooked just in time to catch a glance
from those mournful eyes that told their
whole story. 1t was sent straight into
the eyes of a man known to all the world
as a poet, a romancist, an idealist Of the
first water and purest brilliancy
And be in turn looked mt her, looked
as souls may look hereafter across tho
impossible gulf dividing those forever
lost to zach other, and in whose loss all
is gone that might make life worth tho
living
"Yes, | see" murmured ] to my com
panion. "What is the story
"Only that she was an heiress and no
could hardly find butter Tor his bread
before the world found him ont, He
loved her, but was too proud and sensi-
tive to declare himself, and in trying to
appear Indifferent so far overdid tho
matter ms TO seem careless. She fancied
herself rejected, aud all in "A hurry nc
cepted and married that buttertub whose
name she bears. Probably some acct
dent, some unguarded moment, tore
away the veil from between them, but
too late, too late. They are both Of
them persons who would die rather than
sin against their moral code, and | dare
say that little look we just surprised will
suffice them for months"
"What a pityl' said l, MS we moved
away.
What a stupidity" retorted my
friend. "Why didn't she speak out when
she found he wouldn't or couldn't"
what, offer herself to the mang" ex-
claimed | in horror.
Eyes. Say in effect, Why don't you
speak for yourself, JohnF Why shouldn't
sheY'
because she knew better than to put
herself at any mans mercy"
"When you resort to sarcasm it is n
confession that you have no sound argu-
ments to offer, but think it over and see
if / 1 am not right"
have thought it over ever since, but
cannot yet say with conviction either
that he was right or altogether wrong
As n general rule / suppose all of us feel
that it is n mans business to select his wife
and to offer her his love, while she is linn
tied to the privilege of saying Yes or No,
as thee ase may be. The MAJ coI4ugdtes
-Amo in the dctire Uoice, and tcomdn in The
passive, and the tradition that he pursues,
entreats, urges, while she at last yieldsa