The morning news., 1894-09-02
THE WIT OF NAN.
From MacMillan,s Magazine.

Gus gathering of tennis players and girls
laughing to the sun, but the gloomy affair
of the morbidly select. In bright red she
blOssomed with all the sweets of a woman
magically feminine. Her crisp black hair
seemed ready 10 fly out against conven-
tionaEties, against hats particularly, and
her brown eyes were golden with the JOY
of life, wit has chiseled her features, so
excellently irregular in the rOundness of
their curves; to pointed nose and chin. 1
could not but enjoy, as a relief from all
the elaborate angles of her stiff surround
ings the rapid undulations OF her little
figure, her expressive arms, dancing little
feet, as she sat there, a wild gypsy, fash
ionable and polished, but still untamed by
society. Pouting like some playful child
over lessons, her mouth rigidly set against
the fickering dimples of irrepressible
laughter, she listened to the pompous old
due de Retz or answered the wise SEN
tences at random with a wave of her
head
who is she2" inquired of NJ. Pimo-
dan de St Ouen a walking edition of lie
Tout Paris, tightly bound in frock coat.
why that is la belle Comtesse de
CrequY de Canaples, widow, mon cher,
young, rich. If you admire her, here's
your chance. The duke is dying to talk
politics with the Dowager de Baudri-
court. Forward, to the rescue,N And
M. PimydOn emitted that short, dry note
which serves him as laugh or cough,
while l stepped up to NJ. de Retz, who
gratefully introduced me: Dear cousin,
Mir stlehigh-Comtesse de Canaples. "
And he retired as Nine de Canaples
smiled II ut M with hpYS h11nnrpug
Her voice was fluently musical as She
gayly said: We are not quite strangers,
for | have met your charming sister at
the PlOt-Chandleus." Before 1 could
frame a compliment she suddenly added:
DO you love here"
"Who?N
"Your sister, of course. I like every
man to love his sister"
Well hope | do"
man."
More or less"
LESS, decidedly less. An Englishman
with blue eyes like yours should not only
be honest and brave, but sure, sure of
everything. Don't you see, don't you un-
derstand what strength, what manliness
there is in being absolutely sure, even if
YOU are quite wrong? 1t healthy; every
thing strong ana absolute is healthy.
What are you them"
well, a cosmopolitan"
"Ah, bah ~ she exclaimed, with toss
of her diminutive head, as she surveyed
me goOd-humoredly. And that means
that you are not interested in anything
but the surface of things; that your
sentiments are paradoXes; that your
ASPIRATIONS go no higher than a lift will
carry you that your feelings, philosophy,
life, love, lounge in a mental Hotel
MetropOle, and never work at home.
Have you no preference for any country"
II think prefer France"
For shame; you a Castlehigh you
whose very name seems rooted in Saxon
soil All, she added, with another of her
kindly smiles, II see it all; you think to
tatter. But why should you not speak
the truth / adore the truth You cannot
possibly love anything better than your
birthplace, your family, your home"
laughed, saying: You see my mother
| was French"
She seized my hand and shook it frankly
| as she exclaimed: Then YOU really did
| love your mother You love her country2
| lis well! All human greatness Of man is
| in his devotion to his mother France.
! then, seems TO enfold you in her arms !;
the very air caresses. soothes, and nurses
| you! But nevertheless, you are an En-
! glishman. This mixing of races and
names breaks traditions of hereditary
| faith. Man must be steadfast Only a
woman may capriciouslY adopt and pas
sionately follow her love across the seas
may be irresponsible, except 10 God, her
self and her husband. Man must be the
rock to which we cling. He is our coun-
try, our name, our heart. Remember
that song of your people:
In spite of all temptations
To belong to other nations,
He remains an Engllshman."
GLOW nice of him You know there are
temptations, for England means duty
but ! am preaching, excuse me! You have
such a real, honest, British face that |
cannot help feeling disappointed at find
ing you a mere cosmopolitan. co back to
England there is the place for the clever
and the brave"
"You flatter!"
''Nevernf
"But feel flattered."
"You should feel ashamed, then, as
hattery commences where truth ceases
Are you not clever, are you not brave?"
Il don't think So"
'Well, at any rate, you have enough
false modesty to please most people of
the world"
blushed.
Have ! hurt your feelings" she said
with her hand on my arm, in soft, gentle
tones: Il am so sorry! / only wished to
spur you out of this nonchalant attitude.
am sure It's only pose, that you really
have ideals. Come, now, don't let me do
you an injustice; l hate misunderstand-
iugs Admit it, you are worker. not
simply walking gentleman; you have
something beneath the crown of your hat.
What do you do, tell me-" And she
leaned forward, her eyes intent on mine.
well, l write little poetry" | STAN
mered.
Her eyes sparkled. her lips smiled. she
clapped her hands in delight, exclaiming
in a musical roulade: "You love YOUR
mother, ana you are poet / knew your
English eyes expressed ideals, strength
and health. Poets may be cosmopoitans:
indeed their home is in allnatons hearts.
Have you published Not yet! Oh, then,
do bring your manuscripts TO my house
could you come tomorrow, Tuesday,
Yes? How good of you, when every mo-
ment may be precious gold. Thank you,
and au revoir."
And, as l held that small hand in mine
! felt that | had made a friend
When l called next day Nine de Cana
pies was in her boudoir. She listened to
my reading silently, attentively, almost,
it seemed, reyerentlY: and wheL left the
house after dinner / felt very great The
neXe morning we met in the bois and rode
together the same night we danced a
cotillon at Nine. de Plot-Chandieu' Fate
seemed determined TO make us meet, and
perhaps we helped her,