The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1896-02-19
The Toss Of
A Copper.
Story Of My Experience With
Two Lovers.
BY ALEXANDRA DUMAS, JR.
LETTER NO. 1.

ADRIENNB TO HER SCHOOL FRIEND BLANCHE.
I'm quite out of patience with you.
You promised to spend fortnight with
mamma and me in the country, and you
knew perfectly well that you wouldn't
be able to keep your promise. Why
didn't you tell me the truth about it? !
suppose you think O married woman
should not converse with young girl
mamma has just told me. In the first
place, I'm no longer little girl. was
eighteen my last birthday, and it's years
and years ago that unlearned my no
tions concerning the usefulness OF the
stork family. 1t would have been a
very simple thing for you to write me a
few lines explaining the situation to
me. Have we ceased to be friends,
then, because, forsooth, a married wom-
an is not supposed to have young girls
for her friends? Indeed, you take q
very serious view OF life. How much
older are you than 1? A year at the
most. But you are now married wom-
an and must weigh your words lest you
dlspel the illusions of the manageable
maiden. Trash! My poor father had
no such silly ideas, and that's another
reason why his death was blow to me.
DO you want to know my opinion on
the subject Of educating young girls?
They should be brought up by their
father when that father is an honorable
and intelligent man, as mine was.
Why do the mothers spurn the CO.
operation Of the fathers in this matter?
Why are they continually saying to the
men: You don't understand anything
about educating girls"
And then why do they, the very next
day, intrust not only the education
but the very destiny of daughter to
. man whom she has just met-often q
mere boy, without any experience him
self and completely ignorant Of the
character, aspirations and ideas Of his
intended? The change would be much
less abrupt and dangerous were it from
the hands Of father to the arms of
husband. Yes, I mean it, for I saw
how your husband put his arm around
you when you wClt into the garden for
q moonlight stroll!
Oh, that ridiculous moon, with its
swollen mother-of-pearl Jack Pudding
countenance! When I look at it-and
I've been looking at it a great deal
fewS days past-I can't help saying to
myself what hasn't it seen and what
hasn't it heard since the first love-scene
In Eden? But how delightfully."- dis
Greet! It never tells tales out Of school,
but calmly continues to chase up the
sun without ever catching him. How
patient! After we are gone it will con-
tinue to do 30. Others will look at it
and dream and hope, and hope and
dream, ard 30 on forever Eow pro-
voking it is not to amount to anything
more! At times, dear Blanche, I've
great notion to betake me to convent, to
get into one Of those big. white, woolen
gowns, which never fit, to stop talking,
stop thinking, stop living, in fact, just
let time wear me away. But unfortu-
nately in converts they don't wash
themselves from head to foot every
morning. If it weren't for that I'd bury
myself in one of them at once. I'd be
willing to give up my hair, which you
may recollect is very beautiful, but
never could got accustomed to the idea
of not having feet daintily white and
scrupulously cared for. I go to see
Sister Ursula sometimes, and while
chatting with her the other day made
known to her how my yearnings and
hesitations were always graphing with
each other. 1 declared myself strong
enough to triumph over these moments
OF weakness, provided the bishop would
permit me to have next my cell dress
Ing room such as have here. I'm
possible!" she exclaimed. the rules
forbid it. And, besides, my daughter"
she continued, your thoughts should