The Portland daily press., 1895-08-03

uAo ior you TO save you CrouDle, anu -
allus be your friend. Then he was
gone. NEED friend?" the words
seemed so idle to Suzanne. How couio
she ever need anything or anybody save
Philip Was he not all? Friend, father.
mother, husband. Oh, how she loved
him-how she loved him! She was not
wise in her love, poor child. She did
not understand the windings of the hu-
man heart She did not know that such
love as hers needed to be curbed and
hidden. She thought she might always
show her whole heart to Philip, and
that he would but grow the fonder,
seeing all it's fathoms deep of love for
him, and had she been Mildred instead
Of Suzanne that might have been. In
spite of all that oynics say to the con-
trary there are loves which possession
and confession cannot quench-mutual
| loves which increase with time and
know no safety.
But Philip loving Mildred still de-
spite the fact that he had made Suzanne
his wife, found the ardent, demonstra-
tive affection of the latter almost un-
supportable. 1t was early September
when the marriage took place. 1t was
the last week in October when Philip
and his wife set their faces cityward.
Not to New York at first, but to Boston
they proceeded, for Philip realized that
even with all her magnificent beauty
Suzanne must be properly clothed be-
fore he could present her to his New
York friends as his wife.
Once fashionably attired great deal
of the difficulty of the first encounters
would be remedied. He had been care
fully coaching her language all summer,
and if she did not strive to pass beyond
the portals of common platitudes he saw
no reason why he need blush for her,
since her beauty would win her half the
battle. Yet after he beheld her thorough
~ fitted out with all the requisites of a
fashionable costume, her beauty appeal
ed to him less than ever before Down
on the little Maine coast as she hauled
up her boat and leaped into it to row
out bareheaded and bring her father and
Dick in from the Black Minnie, she had
seemed grace itself, clad as she was in
her short serge skirt and sailor waist,
open at the throat. AS she posed for
him in all the difficult attitudes in
which he placed her he marveled at
her lissomness. Yet now in the habili-
ments of fashion she seemed awkward
and heavy She lacked the easy deport-
ment, the trained movements of the
woman of the world. She was not So
ciety woman, and she seemed out of
place in her garb. Judged by merely
physical standard, Mildred Montrose
did not possess one half Of this girls
beauty, yet Suzanne would have ap-
peared at terrible disadvantage beside
her in a salon, and Philip realized more
and more the ordeal through which
the poor girl must pass as they ap-
preached the metropolis.
Suzanne meanwhile was utterly un-
conscious of all this. She was blissfully
happy. Her new clothes gave her the
delight which child feels in a new
apron. She believed herself quite fitted
now to enter the queens drawing room
if need be, and Philip, who saw her ever
and anon examining her gown, her
jacket or her gloves with eager. pleased
eyes, felt his heart sink in his breast
with the consciousness of all the pain
and modification which lay before
them both. ALL? All. mol He did not
aream of all the pain awaiting that
warm fond heart. Had he done so he
would have taken her and fed to the
farthermost corner of the world. I will
say that for him, weak as he may have
seemed in many things.
When they were once installed in
Philips artistic studio quarters, and the
world began TO seek them out the real
ordeal commenced. An ordeal more diff
ficult than anything the young husband
had imagined.
Philip was exceedingly popular in So
oiety, despite his lack of wealth. His
handsome presence, his magnetism, his
genius, all rendered him favorite-ths
first two requisites with women, the
latter with men. He had allowed soci-
city to court him, because while he felt
secret distaste and even disgust for
teas, receptions and all that society
means he realized that he must live on
the patronage Of the people who fre-
quented these places. Now that he had
a wife to support he felt still more the
necessity Of keeping his friends He had
thought Suzanne's beauty would act az
her passport into the circle he frequent
cd, but in the artificial light of city life
Suzanne's beauty seemed to wane as a
wild flower withers quickly in hot
room. Her splendid color looked coarse
at first beside the carefully groomed wo-
men they met. Then after few months
it faded into dull pallor. She con-
stantly mortified Philips pride in small
matters. She would let her great won
dering pansy colored eyes roam over the
costume Of caller, from her bonnet to
her boots, as child might do, and she
would call the attention of Philips
friends to her new garments or bits OF
jewelry. showing such happy pleasure
in their possession that it seemed utter
cruelty to reprove her. She would cry
out with delight or surprise at any new
sight which attracted her, no matter in