The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-11-10
A LIFETIME LOVE.

story, which illustrates the peculiar in
tensity, especially in matters of the
heart, which marks the Breton charac-
ter. The tale was related to her by one
of her friends, the daughter of the hero
inc, whom l will call Emma Rosilis.
She was not perfectly beautiful, but
her face had an indescribable charm.
Her eyes had the most exquisite ~softness,
and her delicate eyebrows almost seemed
to possess a soul, while her skin was so
fine that it betrayed the slightest agita-
ton by fugitive bushes.
Little Emma Rosilis went regularly to
church with her book of hours, and the
truth is that toward the age of Is or IS
there was no place in her little soul but
for n young man, of about 20 or %,
whom she saw often, and whom I will
call Emilien.
Emma had known Emilien ever since
she had known herself. Moreover, she
dreamed what she did not think, until it
happened n day that she found Emil
len was occupying the entire cavity Of
her little heart.
The young man whom she loved had a
good, though not a strong, nature, but
his simplicity, his absence of all pre-
tense, were most pleasing to Emma.
She had not known any young man su-
perior to him, and indeed in the little
world where she moved she had not met
many young men Of any kind.
This love of Emma's soon became most
absorbing. During entire days she would
remain m~otionless, almost as though she
were in a trance, dreaming of her be-
loved. Naturally she said nothing Of
what she experienced either to the one
she loved, or to her relations, or to her
companions. Her discretion was so alb
solute that no one knew ANYTHING of
what filled her.
While Emma lived only in her love for
Emilien, he thought little of her. He
found her pleasing, as did all the world,
but he " thought of telling her so.
He was a commonplace and passive be-
ing, and then, after all, was he to blame?
Emma was so modest that she could
scarcely be distinguished from her
friends-you would have said she sought
only to hide herself.
One day, while she was talking with
her companions at a little reunion at the
foot of the garden, many things were
spoken of. The news which had a fresh
ness for all was of the approaching mar
rage Of Emilien to Anna M. It was
spoken of as a certain thing. Emma
heard it all. Such was the control which
she had over herself, however, that no
n suspected that a poniard had en-
tered her heart. She was quiet, arose a
little while after and retired without
giving any sign Of the frightful wound
which she had just received.
Another bit of news was circulated a
few days after, in the company of the
same young people, assembled in the
same garden. Emma had entered as
novice into the community of Ursulines
of the little village of l.! AS she
was very pious, this surprised no one.
Her secret had belonged SO exclusively
to herself that no one reproached her.
The idea occurred to no one that the
marriage of Emilien was the cause of
her con%secrating herself to religion.
The convent of the Ursulines admitted
divers degrees of religious vocations. By
the side of the sisters bound to the order
by a perpetual VOW there were pious per-
o n wearing a costume which was like
that of the order, minus the veil. These
practiced the same o~bservances without
assuming any permanent obligations.
The greater part took the vows at the
end of some years, but there was more
than one example of devoted sisters who
re-entered the world after years spent
in the convent.
1t was into this class of sisters that
poor Emma entered. Everything was as
usual in her admission, in her novitiate,
in her conduct in the convent.
She became a devotee of the most per-
feet regularity, pious as the others, never
in fault, esteemed by her superiors. Her
pale face in the white linen which sur
rounded it had the beatific calm char
acteristic of the sisterhood. Assiduous
in prayers and in all other pious exer-
cises. she yielded quickly to the religious
habits of the c~loister. At the end of
some days the slow and m%onotonous
routine of the regular convent life had
dulled her sensibilities, and her ordinary
state became a kind of gentle sleep.
Had she succeeded in driving from her
heart the image which had captured her
whole being?
After a fashion-yet she had not even
tried. The suspicion came not to her for
an instant that her love was culpable.
1t was, as in the canticles, "a bouquet of
myrrh in her BOSOM" She would have
doubted God rather than her right to
this sentiment which filled her. She
distinguished not her love from her
piety nor her piety from her love. She
even tasted in her austerities an addi-
tional charm. She found in wounding
herself a sort of delight. She expert
enced an intense joy in believing that
she suffered all this for the one she loved,
and in saying that she saw no other
man but him. Such were the innocence
and purity of her imagination that never