Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1895-04-15

;he presence of grief for n departed
husband, London went quite mad
about her. Fair women whose spouses
we're still hale and hearty took to 60
ing out in black Grape ball dresses,
and for time colors became almost
questionable. But when the ap-
pointed year of mourning had run its
course, Mrs. Maine let off wearing
black with light heart. She was
passionately found of bright things,
Of gay music, of the frivolities that are
supposed to make life endurable. She
put away her sombre gowns, and in a
short time had almost forgotten that
she had ever been married. Her hus
band had possessed fortune and an
Inherited weakness of the lungs. He
lied of the latter, and bequeathed to
ner the former. Now, when she
,hanced to think Of him, she not un.
naturally blessed his memory.
Her freedom was absolutely com.
plete. She could go into nunnery
or dance the can-can, whichever she
chose. She did neither, precisely,
but visited the playhouses; was often
to be seen with lively little parties
slipping at the Savoy, drove down very
frequently to Hurlingham or Rane.
lagh, and spent her days ana nights
in society, desiring nothing better,
perfectly satisfied and perfectly sue
cessful. Everybody called her dear
little woman, and the only luxury that
she could not command was an enemy.
This sort of thing went on until she
was twenty-eight. Life was certainly
real to her, but it was never earnest.
1t was q jingle of music, ring o. bells,
a masked ball without midnight oil
unmasking, q battle in which the only
weapons were flowers. She enjoyed
it all immensely until she was twenty
eight, and then q certain weariness be-
gan to creep over her anG to frighten
her. She was forced to realize, with
strong reluctance, that among her
many possessions she numbered the
bizarre capacity for tiring of accus-
toned things, which has wrecked SO
many lives and wrinkled so many faces.
Her frivolous friends bored her. She
was passing into another period was
bending to listen to fresh voices.
a love of fame, and of those who
possessed it, woke slowly in her heart.
She had never been a social Diana,
never q huntress tracking down lions.
When she had met great men, or men
reputed great, she had liked them to
worship her; she had never dreamed
of worshiping shem. But one season
in her set it became the fashion to ad-
mire effort and sit at the feet of ac-
complishment rather than of beauty
or of money; aud when her set got up
Mrs. Maine remained in the posture
of worship. Henceforth sLe loved
only to be with those who had done
something, or were in course of doing
something. She gave up going to
balls and began to search about in her
mind for talents.
Could not she do something too
write story, paint picture, cause q
world to weep or laugh or cape al
some deed of hers? She was tired OF
being known as a beauty. Compli.
ments paid to her features fatigued
her. She wanted people to adore her
mind; that they found it difficult to
do so was source of annoyance to
her. Only when she had made an eff.
fort in literature and failed did she
become less egotistical. Her vanity
evaporated like a little gray mist, and,
unable to be successful writer her
self, she was at last content to live il
the work of others. She was resolved
to have salon and to inspire talen
to mighty deeds. Rising men at
tracted her greatly, and she surround
ed herself with them, impregnatins
their atmosphere of expectation witt
the less exciting and calmer atmos
phere of power and dignity that ema
mates from the fully riser.