The Dickinson press., 1893-04-29
III.
AT ALL COSTS AND RISKS.

LILO ulilfclSo leclelt IOuIlNs WAeL
Maisie for it's pivot. She could hard
ly sit OF her chair. She dropped and
swooned with horror. Jose Mans
field leaned over her, and held her up
with one large hand. She was beauti-
full, SO. That dropping head, that
shapely shoulder-how marbly white!
how magnificent! how satinlike! how
faultless!
He held her for u minute or so. He
vas in no hurry for the girl to come
round. This bewilderment brought
out wildly the strong points OF her
face. She looked like a daughter of
Niobe in the Florentine halls; for
though Jose Mansfield boosted himself
q true son of theprairie, hew%astravel-
led for all that; he had 'done'' his
Europe.
In a short time, as he gazed, she
opened her eyes, and came to again.
She looked at independently ooh,
JOSE" she cried, not SO much angry
as appalled, and unnerved, You
should have told me that before!
You have a wife in Nebrasku."'
"Yes, Maisie, my child" the poet
answered, peering deeper still into
those liquid eyes, too perfect to be
tender. 81 have n wife-in Nebraska
In the Lunatic Asylum"
At the words, with a sudden bound,
Maisie took heart of grace again, sin
the lunatic asylum" she cried gasp
ing. ooh, Jose-incurable.
The poet bowed his head. "Incur-
able" he answered, with Il Sphynx-
like air. 1t was u part OF Jose Mans
fields pose to be ,Sphynx-
like and inscrutable?
Maisiedrew deep breath again. In
many of the States-above all our
west-hopeless lunacy is agoodground
for divorce. Maisie knew that very
we'll. There were not many o on
the matrimonial chessboard unknown
to Maisie. A tremor ran through her
from head to foot before she dared to
60 on tentatively to the second ques.
ton.
"And you've never tried-you've
never attempted in any way-to rid
yourself OF this incumbrance-to-"
The poet smiled, and interrupted
her placidly.
"Wnat would you have, Maise?"
he answered, Struggling his shoulders,
after the fashion intended to denote
his Castilian ancestry. 81 am moor.
I am free. I am q son OF the rolling
grasslands. never before met any
woman in this world who attracted
me to submit myself once more to do
nestle slavery. 80. =. -. III abol-
ished in the south. Why restore it in
Nebraska? =. d. . Consider the
situation. was young once, and a
fool. In the West, in those days,
women were scarce, and poor articles.
They sampled very ill. did the best
l could for myself. That best was
feeble. You should have seen her
Maisie; a little undersized thing, not
taller than your shoulder-oh, yes, a
decent enough woman in her way, no
doubt; n pretty-faced baby; but not
fit for me, for whom the Fates design.
ed u great, glorious, large.limbed ex.
you, for example, Maieie." And he
darted such a look from his bis
brown eyes ut her that Maisie
trembled and thrilled in her inmost
marrow. The poet went on, lingering
his mustache with affection. "a small
cramped nature as well; not like mine
OF yours-born to roam with tht
buffalo OF my native prairie. A moth
er OF children, good to bake and clear
house. And that, too, for me! Pah
my heart grew sick at it'll"
lie paused again and eyed her.
"In time," he said slowly, "the mus
came and found me. She found IN
on the rancho, among the coyotes ant
tie cowboys. Write, JOSEF she said
And | rose and obeyed her. l wrote
till the world flocked around ME t,
read. Then l knew what l was, and
grew sick Of the woman. e. -. {.
She conveniently went mad. {. E.
There you have the whole episode"
Maisie gazed at him, awe-struck. I
was grand! 1t was glorious! Hi
bombast imposed upon her. Th
mans cailousness and egotism neve
impressed her at all. She saw onl
her own gain in this hideous story.
"And now, JOSE" she asked trem.
lousy. "What do you mea to d
now? The laws of Nebraska adm:
jncurable lunacy as a good and suil
Gent cause
With a snap of his finger the pc,
once more interrupted her.
"What a I do?" he answers
playing with her as q cat plays with
mouse. 81 am poor. am pennies
4 l get what l make with my pen-tl
spinnings OF my own brain-the bar
!. er OF my likelihood. Out of that
support myself-and the mad woma
in Nebraska. How would you ha,
me support yet a third or a fourth
Above all. a Greek goddess, Tapped
Washington luxury?"
Maisie's mind was made up. /
had eaid it himself. No obstac
should stand between her and Il
man of her choice. Was he not RICH
indeed, that here was u help, me
for him? If he could give up his ma
wife she could give up all else. Whs
were ties of blood to her now. A
all risks she should have him, he
own peerless poet. For his sake 81
could dare all-the U~nspeakab,
Thing itself. For his sake she coul
stand any risk, any punishment,
"Good-bye." she cried, rising to &c
~ can't stop here longer now. Thi
episode has been too much for me, d
least for the moment. But, Jose, yo
shall have money to set yourself fire
from this encumbrance. And you
set yourself free, l feel sure, if Pm abb
to marry YOU"
The poet smiled his inscrutabl
smile once more, but answered neve
. a word. 1t was his che to saw notl
ing. Silence W compromises.
y As for Maisie, she drovehome in tt
carriage with mamma, rejecting q
y the way that mammals money =
But alas! there are things that scare
u ~ frame themselves at all to the mi,
q in words.
= u Not even to ourselves dare we co
~ y less openly our own worst imaginin.
w All she knew was Just this-at
~ costs, at all risks. she must and 8
h would marry Jose Mansfield.
CHAPTER ~