Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1895-03-01
A WOMAN'S LIFE.

Jean turned and said good night at the
door. There was diminishing rumble of
wheels on the stone pavement, and she
was alone. She walked quickly across the
hall and opened the door Of her sitting
room. Red Goals glowed III the CRATE, and
she was drawn toward it. She leaned her
elbow upon the mantel and ran her glovcd
hand through her hair. Her loosened
cloak slid to the floor and lay in black
and pink mass at hor feet.
As she stood outlined by the glow of the
fire against the dark thing she looked like
some fair goddess The mirror over tho
mantel reflected the queenly pose of the
head crowned with golden brown hair.
Two dark eyes blazed like stars, and a
brilliant flush was on tho usually white
cheeks. The ivory satin of her evening
dress took on the soft hues Of u rose in the
freight.
What an evening it had been! She
closed her eyes and reviewed it's scenes.
She saw again tho long dinner table with
it's lights, flowers and china, all mingled
in a Kaleidoscope mass of brillianoy. She
saw the distinguished persons gathered
around the board where she herself had
been the guest of honor. How they had
praised her! And how sweet it all rang in
her cars for she was young enough to be-
liove in the sincerity of praise and to love
it, The namo of her book was on every
tongue, and Jean thought as she glanced,
flushed and happy into the faces bent to-
ward hers in dattering attention, "This
world can have no greater joy than this. J"
Now it was over, but Jean knew that
in the morning she would be announced
as ono of the successes of tho day. Her
book was already in all the store windows,
and representatives of tho press were clam
oring for her picture. She knew that in
another week the invitations would pour
in upon her and people beg for introduce
lions. She knew tie world and knew her
own magnetic power and brilliancy.
"How hard have worked for it ALI"
she said with little sigh, which was in
stantly smothered lest she awake the maid
asleep Oh the couch But 1t is worth it.
There is nothing SO sweet as fame. If it
is so grand to. one standing upon the
threshold, what must it bo to DO known all
over the world?'
She turned slowly from the fire and sank
YEARLY into tho cuddling depths of an
armchair. The white lids closed over the
brown eyes. Only for an instant. Then
enc drew herself up rigdly and looked
around with startled gaze. What odor
was that which came stealing over her
senses like breath from the past? Pshaw,
she was dreaming There was no odor,
save in her excited imagination She drew
deep breath, but only to smell again the
same sweet, delicate, intangible scent.
jean turned and looked. A vase Of
white lilacs stood on the stand behind her.
She turned with the fiercencss of tiger
and tore the blossoms from the vase. A
letter fell to the floor, but she did not heed
it. She buried her face in the cool white
blossoms and drew in deep breaths of their
odor.
The room faded from her sight, and she
looked past the tinted walls upon scene
dimmed by years. She saw an old fash
toned garden, calm and still in the moon
light and filled with tho scent Of the
spring flowers. A youth and maiden stood
by the sagging gate. He leaned heavily
against the post and looked at her with
troubled eyes. She stood tall and slender
in the silvery light, and her whole figure
trembled with nervous excitement.
lit is the dream of my life" she said.
II shall never be happy nor contented I'm
til have tried it. You love the country
and are contentcd here, but ! hate it. l
long for the city and people. / want to DO
a part of the world and to become famous.
l feel here" sho continued, folding her
slim white hands over her heart, that
somo day shall be famous. You cannot
understand mo, Paul. do not quite I'M
derstand myself. Only this thing know
Il will give up home, friends and even
love for my ambition.
A long silence followed her excited, car
nest words. Then Paul spoke slowly and
with repressed emotions:
"You must choose for yourself, Jean,
he said, land will abide by your deci-
sion. You arc but child in comparison
with the world, and you will find it very
hard to a woman. Your happiness has
always been moro to mo than my own;
but, Jeanio, dear, it is hard to give you
up Promise ME one thing, he continued
-"should you grow tired Of tho world, or
should you find it disappointing, you
will send for mo. You will always find
mo waiting and faithful, though it bo
years."
Jean impatiently waved the white lilac
she had plucked from the bush over the
gate.
II promise, Paul, Of course, and you
must not think don't care for you. do
really, only am ambitious and do not
wish to DO tied to any one"
Paul suppressed a groan. How lightly
she treated it, this queer girl who had the
flerceness of wild animal and the gentle
ness of an angel! Flo felt so commonplace
and dull beside her. 1t was a part of life,
however, the reconciliation of the dearest
things. He was not q coward to whine
about fate.
He caught the hand which held the lilac
in his
"Thank you, Jea }, and God bless you,"
he said. II know that you will keep your
promise and send for me if the day comes
that you need me-" His gray eyes looked
earnestly into hers for moment; then he
tore the lilac from her hand and was gone.
All this was six years ago. Now as
joan sat in the freight she followed her
past struggles one by one. What up hill
work 1t had bcenl Failures and disoour.
aeements Oh every side, and yet she had
never given up. She had fought her way
inch by inch and now was beginning to
taste the sweets of success. The book over
which she had worked SO hard for weeks
had pleased the critics, and her fame was
assured
But, after all, what did that fame meant
To have no life Of hor own, to stand al
WAYS in the glare of tho worlds curiosity
and to have heraldcd from ocean to ocean
b,r ,,oct fri vial notions to 90 daily thrOllph
the same thing-dinners, teas, receptions,
among crowds of people, not one OF whom
really cared for her. to work to the utter