Belding banner. (Belding, Mich.) 1889-1918, 1895-06-13

ideals. Come, now. don't let me &c
you an injustice; | hate misunder
standings. Admit 1t, you are a work
err, not simply a walking gentleman;
you have something beneath the
crown CT your hat. What do you DO,
tell me-" And she leaned forward,
her eyes intent on mine.
well, | write a little poetry"
stammered.
Her eyes sparklcd, her lips smiled,
she clapped her hands In delight, eA-
claiming In musical doulade: You
your mother and you are a poet! l
know yous English eyes Expressed
ideals, strength and health. Poets
may be cosmopolitans; indeed, their
home is I'm all nations hearts. Have
you published? Not yet? oh, then DO
bring your manuscripts to the Rouse:
could you come tomorrow, Tuesday!
Yes? How good OF you. when every
moment may be precious gold. IhanK
you, and au revoir."
And as l held that small hand In
mine, l felt that had made a friend.
When I called next day, Nine. de
Canaples was In her boldOir. She lis
tened to my reading. silently, atten-
lively, almost, 1t seemed, reverently,
aud when left the house, after din
ner, l felt very great. The next morn
ing we met In the Boise and rode to-
gether; the same night we danced
cotillion at Nine. de Piot-Chandieu's.
Fate seemed determined to make us
meet, and, perhaps. we helped her. .
If man and woman see much OF
each other they invariably talk or
themselves, wax sentimental by waltz
music and imagine themselves In love
after supper. But l am tired or nirta-
tions, sick OF telling n woman whom L
only admire that l love her. So one
evening as we discussed sentiments
over pate-de-fois- gras. told her how
much l regretted that two great
minds should lavisbly follow the ex-
ample Of the stupid. She agreed III
we remain on ou- present footing, one
Of us may fall In love. She opened
her innocent eyes. smiling, Yes"
continued. " in love; what else can
happen? Whereas, II we go of some
whcre together and live naturally, I'M
constrained by the world, we shall
know ourselves tculy and enjoy a few
days Of rest"
"Oh, the wit Of man. she cried.
gaily clapping her fands. her whole
face beaming with delight.
The next morning we started by rail
for Fontainebleau. Soon we were
both fast asleep. only to wake at our
destination. She took n room at one
hotel, at another The next day we
drove i'm the forest, silently watching
the royal trees, till our eyes grew tired
and we fell asleep. We stayed there
a fortnight, driving, sleeping. barely
saying n word. and yet quite happy.
When we were back in Paris she
asked. "And why did we go to Fon-
tainebleau for that"
Because" l replied "at Fontaine-
bleau we kept regular hours. allowed
ourselves no cerebral excitement,
drank no champagne. heard no one
whisper, Little Castlehigh Is awfully
I'm love with Nine. de Canaples," or
The Countess il decidedly sweet on
&C cher garcon" / have simply 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
separate thoughts. oh, that fortnight
In Fontainebleau! We scarcely spoke
twice day. Silence Is repose, and
repose is bliss. To think that we
more days OF Paris. and my fate, at
least. was sealed. But l understood
the dangers OF our situation. Could
anything be more paradOxical and
modern than our elopement to Fon-
tainebleau? Carry of a woman mys-
teriously at night, two hours by rail,
to a strange town, remain there a
fortnight entete-a-tete! And all that
tn htrt he
trary. to escape the necessary, the his
tor'cal development Of situat ion
without issue. Don't you think that
our late adventure gives us incontcsta-
BILE superiority over the greatest wits
of our ageT
She seized both Of my hands and
fixed my eyes. 1t was rapid. search
ing wondrous look; only her irregular
and mobile face could have such ex-
preston; and for half second she
seemed to tear open my soul, take q
peep. see 1t all and shut 1t up. Then
she sat down on the sofa and gazed
meditatlvely at me. Humor and dis
appointment were blended in her dim
pied smile. She crossed her arms,
nodded her head, examined her little
feet slowly one after the other, and
sighed, The wit OF manr' She shrug-
ged her shoulders most charmingly us
she reiterated. each time with quite
a new and singular intonation, 1.-THE
wit OF man. the wit of manr'
Most people would have been put
out by the obvious double meaning
OF this remark, But / am n psycholo-
gist; In fact. ] pride myself not a lit
tie on my penetration. ! understood
that she smiled at my wit. compared
me to others, and sighed regretfully re-
fected how few men are really capa-
bic OF such subtle conduct with wom-
en-. They are few. inded.
Then she buried her face In her
hands to think. And, with equal I'M
expectedness. came softly to me ard
kissed my cheek. Thank you" she
said, In strangely, far-on voice:
though n youth, you are a great
philosopher. Henceforth we are
friends; we will never allow society
to make us pose one to the ,ther, but
meet sometimes and rest together.
She tripped away out Of the room.
But the door suddenly reopened, and
she leaned forward. offering her ex-
quisite figure to my view like a bou-
quet, as she smiled with her sweet.
red lips. '."The wit OF man, ha! ha -
snc laughed. as she ran downstairs
San Fra nCiSC0 Rnliofip