The Press., 1894-12-20
HELEN $ FOLLY.
By KATE RICHMOND.


 ried for love At 25 she found herself bankrupt of everything. She lived, and with the stubborn tenacity of her na- ture sho braced herself to endure exist ence, but she neither hoped nor feared anything. She ate and drank and slept. The mechanical routine of the days re peated itself, but she had come to dead stop. She had lost all courage, all faith. A bare, blank wall faced her. There was nothing more to be enjoyed nor suffered She had had everything and lost everything
 If she had consciously recognized all this, there might have been some hope | of reaction. When one appreciates the dramatic effect of circumstances, new interest in new circumstances is apt to be not far off. But Helen was capable | of no such attitude toward herself. One saw it in her face-dark and thin and changeless as statue's. She had great dark eyes, but they never varied their dreamy, unheeding look. Her voice was l low, soft and monotonous, and yet she was not at all a dreadful person to live with. It was impossible that her story | should not cast it's shadows over the household, but when it was once settled that Helen's experience had exempted her from all the ordinary rules that bound the others matters adjusted them selves, as they always do, and the hap py current of commonplace living flow ed around her undisturbed.
 She was slender and graceful, strong, too, as these slight built New England women are often enough. At IT she had not been handsome, but she had had that air of any possibility of beauty which is better than defined prettiness. She was shy, reserved and cold, with the positive, repelling power of strong natures and with the Puritan traditions of training superadded Under it she was willful headstrong and passionate, never capable of seeing more than one side of subject and always glorifying that side with the whole force of trop- ical imagination rigidly repressed and totally ungOverned.
 1t was just then that in a school va cation she visited friend in one of the shadiest and oldest and steadiest of Connecticut villages. While she was in the house there came out of the south west young man who claimed blood relationship with the family. It was 1 just ill the days when Bret Harte's he roes stood foremost ill the ranks of pop ularity The inborn rebellion against conventionalities ill Helen's blood caught eagerly at the picturesque free dom and wildness of these characteriza- tions. She could not realize that one redeeming trait may not suffice to make whole life tolerable. Payne Morse was as handsome in his blond way as young demigod. He had the slow, soft speech of the plainsman; he swore no Oaths ill her presence at least; he con- formed to the requirements of com munity ill which @ revolver and lariat rope were alike uncalled for and out landish with a good natured federation that had in Helen's eyes immense pi- quancy and magnanimity. Then he rode like centaur, and the accomplishment was so novel ill that corner of the hills 1 that it seemed almost like something unlawful and ungodly. Somebody in a wild fit of speculation had shipped east @ trainload of mustangs ill the illusive hope that they might be broken for use among the quartz lodges. They kicked, they bucl1ed, they sat on their launches and squealed their wrongs aloud in ev cry variation of the equine tongue, and at last Payne Morse was appealed to, as being only little less savage than the mustangs, to see if he could do any thing with them.
 He found himself able and apparent 1 ly enjoyed the work His fearless rid ing his quiet, merciless mastership of the untamed brutes, completed the con- quest of Helen's fancy
 That was i'll leafy June. In Septem- Der she went back to school. A month later she left the recitation room one day, put on her hat, walked out of the house and to the railroad station. In the next city Payne Morse awaited her. They were married within the hour, and before sunset they told the story Ill the Tryon sitting room.
 Helen was not defiant. She was quiet, rather sad, but no more repentant or regretful than block of marble. MT. | Tryon recognized the trait by sympathy | perhaps. He looked at the two as they stood ill the middle of the room. Moth CT and sister had withdrawn little. l Helen's will was thing that most of the household did withdraw from. She stood by her husbands side, slight, erect her hand on his arm, but not leaning on him at all
 "You are aware, sir" MT. Tryon said, ''that this child is a minor? By the law 1 could take her from you ''
 ''But you will not?' The question was half assertion.
 "No, 1 shall not. She has chosen. She must learn life in her own way. shall try to make no difference be- tween her and the others, and may the Lord have mercy on you both," he added half under his breath.
 ELY'S