The Portland daily press., 1894-08-28

ly sweet on CO cher garcon., 1 have SIM
ply proved, dear lady, that society was
forcing us, with it's champagne and talk,
to think of each other, whereas nature left
us to follow our own individual and sep
arate thoughts. Oh, that fortnight in
Fontainebleau! We scarcely spoke twice
day. Silence is repose, and repose is
bliss. 70 think that we might have been
vulgar lovers! A few more days of Paris,
and my fare at least was sealed. But
understood the dangers of our situation.
Could anything be more paradoxical and
modern than our elopement to Fontaine-
bleau? Garry off woman mysteriously at
night, two hours by rail, to strange
town, remain there fortnight en- tete-a-
tete And all that not to become lovers;
but, on the contrary, to escape the neces-
sary, the historical development of situ-
alton without issue Don't you think our
late adventure gives us incontestible SUI
periority over the greatest wits of our age?''
She seized both my hands and fixed my
eyes. Tt was a rapid searching, wondrous
look. Only her irregular and mobile face
could have such expression, and for half a
second she seemed to tear open my soul,
take a peep, see it all and shut it up
Then she sat down on the sofa and gazed
meditatiyely at me. Humor and disap-
pointment were blended in her dimpled
smile. She crossed her arms, nodded her
head, examined her little feet slowly one
after the other and sighed, THE wit OF
manp' She shrugged her shoulders most
charmingly as she reiterated, each time
with quite new and singular information,
AThe wit of man; the wit of mar"
Most people would have been put out by
the obvious double meaning of this re-
mark, but am psychologist-in fact,
pride myself not a little on, my penetra
ton. I understood that she smiled at my
wit, compared me to others and sighed as
she regretfully reflected how few men are
really capable of such subtle conduct with
women. They are few indeed.
Then she buried her face in her hands
to think, and, with equal unexpected
ness, came softly to me and kissed my
cheek.
'sThank you, she said in strangely
faroff voice Though but youth, you
are a great philosopher. Henceforth we
are friends We will never allow society
to make us pose one to the other, but
meet sometimes and rest together.
She tripped away out of the room. But
the door suddenly reopened, and she leaned
forward, offering her exquisite figure to my
view like a bouquet as she smiled with
her sweet red lips. 1.-The wit of man; ha,
| hal" she laughed as she ran down stairs.
Nearly every day Mime. de Canaples
comes to sit in my study. Her work bas-l
! ket and books are in a corner; even when
absens the atmosphere of her pervades the
room like a spirit and soothes me. We are
usually quite silent, but when do speak
| she listens as she did when first read my
| poems to her, and the Pickering gold in
| her brown eyes seems to light my memory
| and color my expression. The other day
she said, II know exactly the position
| which / occupy between your books and
| cigarettes Her tone was somewhat Bit
ter. But / proved to her that she is my
| most precious friend, for she never bores
me, following all my moods and indulging
| them in manner most surprising when
/ think of it. Really am SO thankful
| that for once I resisted the temptation of
flirting. Love would have spoiled our
| friendship, as it does everything. Even
! Nine. de Canaples torments her lover,
| for she is going to marry Jacques de Chan
| dieu, at least she tells me So But on this
| subject she lavishes all the caprice and
| childishness which friendship seems to
| have drowned in her with me. Sometimes
| she speaks passionately of lie beau Jacques,
| who is dashing officer of chasseurs, some
| what brainless, very handsome and quite
| spoiled by Nine. de Plot Chandieu At
other times Nine. de Canaples says that she
| hates him, and her sudden reversions of
| feeling are really beginning to torment him
into man of thought. He obeys her like
f,if eJ,1
does man who loves her, whereas with
me she is unfailing in her gentle consid-
| Grafton, ceaseless in her delicate atten-
| tions. And the moral of all this is, If you
| love a woman, don't make love to her; if
| you love her, don't marry her. I told her
| SO the other day. She biushed and laughed
until the tears rolled down her cheeks,
| saying as usual, 1.-THE wit of man'' as
she wiped her eyes and composed herself
back to the letter which was debating
| to my London tailor.
| But do wish she would marry Jacques
and be done with it. Her capricious treat
| ment of him and appeals to my sympathy
are rather teasing She always wants to
know what I think. Now, that is Just
what don't do when she is by me. /
then simply take repose in her society from
| all mental exertion. 1t has become habit,
and these constant demands on my reason
ing faculties, though fattering, bore me.
Can no woman ever leave well enough
| alone?
When she came in this afternoon, saw
| by the way she lowered about my chair
| before sitting down that something was
on her mind. She wore a red dress very
like that which she had on the day first
l met her AFT M,na RI +0,, >ovtry