Lyon County times. [volume] (Silver City, Nev.) 1874-1907, 1892-10-01


made for earnest, persistent people to
take and enjoy; she believed in freedom
as the war had fixed it-in free educa-
ton, free thought, free men and women.
She was not aware that Edgar Julian
had influenced her to believe in these
things; the doctrine seemed quite as
much her own as the old Provencal
cross; Julian had been simply restorer
of things lost-a reviver of things In
allegiance. Rosalie keenly realized what
her answer to Julian's letter must de-
eide She puzzled her mind to discover
some happy way out of the dilemma.
She asked herself over and over again,
"Do love him?" and just as often she
shrank away from the responsibility OF
saying yes or no. Her heart trembied,
she hesitated, faltered, dreamed. So the
days went by while Edgar Julian shiv-
cred through the Chicago snowstorms
waiting for letter He, too, was wres-
Ting with problem. He did not shrink
from acknowledging his love-he gloled
in it--but he did not feel safe IN rushing
back to Savannah. nor did he feel con
tent to stay away a man in love must
be allowed some latitude of foohshness,
and we ought to con. ider that each IN
stance Of love trouble has its sentimental
peculiarities Julian had uttered the
simple truth when he wrote that ne was
unfit for business since returning. No
man could have been more preoccupied
all the time, more restless, more inclined
to wave affairs aside and to give him
self over to his fancies.
The letter he was waiting for was
long while coming. and when 1t dld
come it only gave emphasis to his dlih
Guilty.
Your letter" Rosalie wrote, has
been here for a good while. You Will
forgive me for not answering 1t sooner
when say frankly to you that | have
been dreaifully at Il loss as to my duty
in the matter | very much desire to be-
kind and good to you, but my seltshness
has interposed itself all the time. On
one hand must not, | cannot, tell you
to come back; on the other hand | should
be delighted to see you and talk with
you did not know until | returned
that you had gone away, and | missed
had better not come back, think. for il
would be unpleasant to you, unless you
could repress and forget everything be-
yond our charming friendship. prize
you above all my friends. and frankly,
hardly know why, unless it is because
you have humored my selishness and
fed my Provencal fancies as no one else
save papa ever has. | shall be very I'M
happy if lose you. and yet it would not
be right for me to make you hope for
what might never come.
II respect you too sincerely not to be
precisely frank if knew how; but have
vainly tried to make up some phrase or
other expressive of my feelings The
best can do is to say that | hope you
will not come back till you have deter
mined to be my good, strong, generous
friend, and nothing beyond. could not
bear to have you come in any other way,
and yet hope you will come. Our little
garden is full of flowers and the air is
very sweet with their perfumes.
Papa and my sister Adelaide are here
with u.s. We are going to Europe in July
to Provence, of course. Aunt Margue-
rite Is going along as guardian and chape-
ron for Adelaide and me. Won't you
write me and tell me those things about
Chateau Chenier that you say you forgot
to tell me while you We're here? am
sorry to have to refuse you anything, but
cannot see how any good could ever
come OF permitting you to return, so
long as you feel as you say you do, You
wouldn't enjoy being here, and that
would make me very unhappy, My cen
tury plant is in bloom Give my love to
Mrs. Largely, Your friend,
"RoSALIE CHENIER."
Julian read this letter with a queer
mist in his eyes, He could not find much
comfort in its half girlish, half stilted
sentences, and yet he would not have
had a word changed for anything. He
imagined he could trace Rosalie's inno-
cent frankness and freshness between
the lines. He sat and gazed into big
blazing fire for hours after he had learn
ed the letter by heart. Her elastic grace
full figure and warm bright face came up
before him; he saw her gray brown
eyes and straw gold hair; he heard her
low, sweet voice Did she love him? He
read the letter again, pulled his mus
tache, frowned, smiled, read again,
gazed into the fire almost fercely, looked
at his watch, went and packed his trav-
cling bag and took the next train for the
south.
When he got to Savannah he went to
the Pulaski House. He did not care to
rush in unaware upon the household at
Roosevelt Place, especially since the
Cheniers had come there. He sent his
card to the house. An hour or two later
Mrs. Roosevelt called for him in car