The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1894-11-07

subjects. She was herself student
of the piano. So there was enough to
talk about.
looked at my watch. / was after
eleven o'clock. How the time had
passed. Three hours had slipped
away and hadn't realized it. What
better proof that I had found my
newly discovered cousin absorbing.
It was new sensation for meme,
who, with my surfeit of fair cousins,
had always been inclined to take the
society of women at discount.
tWhy, do believe am actually
little in love with this girl" 1 solilo-
quized on the way back to my lodg-
ings. ''But it will do no harm.
She's my cousin" So interested was
1 in the subject, however, that at that
late hour 1 sat down upon reaching
home and wrote letter to my mother
in New York, telling her all about
Daisy Tillotson. She was an acquisi-
tion to the family, said.
1 had arranged to take my cousin to
the Luxembourg gallery the next day.
Then We would go to the opera in the
evening. This was my plan. / called
for her in the morning with car
riage. Think of me riding in car
riagel Why, like true bohemian, l
had always hated anything less ple-
beian than public omnibus or a BIZ
cycle. But then, "she's my cousin,
argued to myself, "and must make
her stay in Paris memorable. It's all
on her account"
Yes, she certainly did look pretty,
that fresh, inspiring April morning.
She must have studied to look her
best took this to myself as com
pliment. In turn, had myself given
unwonted attention to my toilet and
had spent some little time trying to
decide which cravst should wear.
"What romontic and unconven-
tional situation fate has thrust us into,
Miss Tillotson," 1 remarked as the
carriage rolled off toward the Luxem-
bourg. "Here are two young people
who have never known and scarcely
heard OF each other before, cast sud
denly together, far away from home
and left to each other without sponsor
or chaperon. 1t sounds too bookish
to be reality"
''Yes, I've been thinking of it,
she answered, "but you know we're
cousins, and that's different"
"After ALL" 1 persisted with the
idea of teasing her-for I'm con-
firmed tease--''are you perfectly sure
of that? You never knew me. Jones
is common name. There may be
half dozen painters in Paris by the
name of Jones. In fact, 1 know one
myself You picked me out at ran.
dom. Perhaps I'm not your cousin Of
all. Maybe the other Jones is the for
tunate one."
"Oh, you're just trying to tease
me-" she responded, "and shan't be
teased. know you'd like pretext to
get rid of me, but it's quite a privi.
lege to have a cousin in Paris who
knows everything, and I'm not going
to let you go SO easily, Mr.. Jones.
"'Mr. Jones, indeed" said 1 in an
injured tone. 'If you call me MIR
Jones am no cousin of yours. My
name is Arthur my cousins And
I'm going to call you Daisy. May L
Miss Tillotson' is so long, you know. >
81 don't know why you shouldn't,
she said, a little ooquettishly, ''it
you're my cousin.
1t was gala day for me. How
enjoyed telling her what knew about
the pictures. And in the evening
how enjoyed hearing her talk of tn,
opera-it was Carmen" Music wa
as familiar ground to her as art was t,
me. And how often we found that
truth was as applicable to one art a,
to the other. We had both been pro
crossing in the same field-art in the
abstract-along different but parallel
paths; and the comparisons of views
were interesting and broadening to III
both. Ponder the subject we'll ant
you will find that there are numerous
essential analogies that run through
pictorial, musical and literary art.
For two weeks scarcely touched /
brush. During that time the doors o
the Fine Arts knew me not. My ar
had been temporarily eclipsed. "Oh
we'll, fellow doesn't run across sucl
cousin every day." I urged to mysel
in excuse for my neglect of study.
was trying to persuade myself that
was Interested in Daisy Tillotsol
simply because she was my cousin
But knew better. began to wisl
she were not my cousin.
We we're very frank with each other
There was no reason to be otherwise
, One afternoon we were out at st
i Cloud-out under the budding hors
chestnuts whose shade Napoleon S,
loved. 1 had been reading "Paul ant
Virginia" to her in French, I remem
ber. 'You have no right to be m,
cousin, Daisy" 1 said. "What per
, versity of circumstance. Here yol
are the only woman have ever com
across. that has forced from me an,
! real affection of the tenderer sort. AM
you are my cousin.
! ''But maybe am not your cousin,
she responded with merry twinkle
"You have said often enough that yoI
, are not sure of it. Perhaps 1 an
some adventdress who, counting oi
7 your brilliant future, has set ira
, for you and baited it with this cousiI
! pretext SO as not to frighten yol
. away. There's no telling. Aren'
4 you little suspicious?"
And 50 we kept up the sentimental
= skirmish. 1t would have been a rea
courtship if that cousinly barrier ha'
1. a.