Pawtucket tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 1890-189?, 1894-08-25
THE WIT OF MIN.

I met her at garden party, not joyous
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
0agioally feminine. Her crisp, black hair
seemed ready TO fly out against oonven-
tionalities against hats particularly, and
her brown eyes were golden with the JOY of
I life Wit had ohiseled her features, so excel
lently irregular In the roundness OF their
curves, TO pointed nose and chin. could
not but enjoy, as "A relief from all the elab-
crate angles Of her stiff surroundings, the
rapid undulations Of her 1.-the figure, her
expressive arms, dancing little feet, as she
sat there, Wild gypsy fashionable and
polished, but still untamod by society.
Pouting like some playful child over les
sons, her mouth rigidly set against the
flickering diInples of irrepressible laugh
ter, she listened To the pompous old Due
de Retz or answered his wise sentences at
random, with wave of her hand.
'Who Is shei'' inquired OF M. Pimo-
dan de st. Ouen, walking edition OF Le
Tout Paris, tightly bound in frock coat.
'Why, that is la belle Comtesse do
Crequy de Canaples. widow, mon cher
young, rich
And he retired, as Nine do Canaples
smiled up at me with her humorous eyes.
Her voice was fluently musical as she gay
ly said, "We arc not quite strangers, for
have met your charming sister at the Plot
Chadieus. Before i could frame "A COM
pllment she suddenly added, "Do you
love herr"
"Whof"
"Your sister, of course. like every man
to love his sister"
"Well, hope do"
"You only hopel Arc you an English
mani"
"More or less"
LESS, decidedly less. An English
man with blue eyes like yours should not
only be honest and brave, but sure, suro
Of everything"
When called next day, Nine do Can
aples was In her boudoir. She listened TO
my reading, silently, attentively, almost,
IL seemed, reverently, and when left the
house after dinner I felt very great. Tho
next morning we met In the Bots and rode
together. The same night we danced n
cotillon at Nine do Plot -Chandieu's. Fate
seemed determined to make us meet, and
perhaps we helped her.
II man and woman see much OF each
other, they invariably talk of themselves,
wax sentimental by waltz music and inn
agine themselves in love after supper But
am tired of flirtations, sick Of telling n
woman, whom only admire, that / love
her. So one evening as we discussed sen
timent over pate do foie gras, told her
how much / regretted that two great
minds should slayishly follow the exam
pie of the stupid. She agreed. "If we
remain on our present footing, one of us
may fall in love-" She opened her inno-
cent eyes, smiling. "Yes," / continued,
"in love. What else can happenf Where
as If we go off somewhere together and
live naturally, unconstrained by the
world, we shall know ourselves truly and
enjoy a few days of rest"
"Oh, the wit of mani" she cried, gayly
clapping her hands, her whole face beam
ing with delight.
The next evening we started by rail for
Fontainebleau. Soon we were both fast
asleep only to wake at our destination.
She took a room at one hotel, / at another.
The next day we drove IN the forest, ST.
lently watching the royal trees till our
eyes grew tired and we fell asleep. We
staid there a fortnight, driving, sleeping,
barely saying word and yet quite happy,
When we were back in Paris, she asked,
"And why did we go to Fontainebleau for
that"
Because, 1 replied, "at Fontainc-
bleau we kept regular hours, allowed our
selves no cerebral excitement, drank no
champagne, heard no one whisper Little
Castlehigh Is awfully in love with Mime.
de Canaples, or The countess is decided
ly sweet on co cher garcon l have sim
ply proved, dear lady, that society was
forcing us, with its 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 To think that we might have been
vulgar lovers A few more days of Paris,
and my fate at least was sealed But
understood the dangers of our situation.
Could anything be more parndoxical and
modern than our elopement to Fontatno-
bleaui Carry off woman mysteriously at
night, two hours by rail, to q strange
town, remain there fortnight en- tete-a-
tetel And all that not to become lovers;
but, on the contrary, to escape the neces-
sary the historical development of stu
alton without issue. Don't you think our
late adventure gives us incOntestible SUI
periority over the greatest wits of our ageF'
She seized both my hands and fixed my
| eyes lt was roplu, searCnlnR, WOAuIOu0
look. Only her irregular and mobile face
could have such expression, and for half
second she seemed to tear open my soul,
take peep, see 1t all and shut 1t up.
Then she sat down on the sofa and gazcd
meditatively at me. Humor and disap-
pointment were blended In her dimplcd
smile She crossed her arms, nodded her
head, examined her little feet slowly one
after the other and sighed, THE wit of
mani She shrugged her shoulders most
charmingly as she reiterated, each time
with quite new and singular intonation,
''The wit OF man; the wit of man"
Most people would have been put out by
the obvious double meaning of this re-
mark, but am psyohologist-in fact,
pride myself not a little on my peneta-
ton. ] understood that she smiled at my
wit, compared me TO Others and sighed as
she rogretfully 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
check.
"Thank you, she said in a strangely
faroff voice. Though but "a youth, you
are great philosopher. Hencoforth We
are friends, We will never allow society
10 make us pose one TO the other, but
meet sometimes and rest together.
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