Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1896-06-10
A FAIR COMPANION.

Onco was compelled to make the trip
to Turin by the way Of Corsica. So took
the steamer at Nice for Baslia.
AS soon as we were under way I began
to look around and observe my fellow pas
sengers. noticed a modest looking young
woman sitting on deck alone and appar-
emily stranger. Immediately said to
myself, "There is my travelling compan-
ion," so placed myself where could
watch the graceful contour of her head
and shoulders, the exquisite coloring of
her richly tinted checks and the dreamy
look of her dark eyes gazing far out at sea.
l noted the fine lines of her hands, a little
too large and strong, but white and beau
tifully shaped; the delicate, she'll like ears
which always indicate good blood better
than certificate of birth, sometimes con-
testable.
AS watched my neighbor asked my
self all those questions we usually ask
about an unknown woman in whom we
are Interested "Who is she?" "Where is
she going?" why is she travelling alone?"
Without seeming to notice my scrutiny,
she settled herself comfortably in her
chair, opened her satchel and took out
newspaper. rubbed my hands exulting-
ly and said, "Now, let me see what she
reads and Twill tell you her character and
thoughts" l gave the paper a quick
glance, and to my surprise saw it was a
Partisan journal. She began at the first
page with dainty, satisfied manner; read
on and on, sometimes smile on her lips,
but always look of interested attention.
drew my seat near to her, took out a
volume of poems had bought just before
starting and pretended to be equally in
terested.
A good many passengers walked up and
down, but she appeared to think Of moth
ing but her paper. Finally she seemed to
have finished and laid it down on seat
between us. I Immediately bowed and
said:
"Will madam permit mo to glance over
her paper9"
Certainly, monsieur, with tho greatest
pleasure"
"In tho meantime, allow me to offer
you this volume of poetry. 1t may inter-
est YOU"
Thank you. Is it amusngp'
This rather disconnected me- When one
offers a volume of love songs to woman,
/
amusing? Nevertheless, answered.
cit is more than amusing-it is charm
ing-delicious
She opened the book and began to run
through it with little bewildered air, as
If she was not in the habit of reading poe
try. Suddenly asked:
"Don't you like itY'
Yes, but l am not at all sentimental
I like something gay-very gay" With
that she closed the book and we began to
talk.
learned that she was the wife of an Of
ficer at Ajaccio. She was going to rejoin
her husband. She added she had been
dragged from one little town to another
and now she was going to be buried in
that lugubrious isle of Corsica.
In some way fancied she did not love
her husband-loved him, perhaps, with
that cool reserve q woman gives to man
who is not congenial to her.
She said she preferred living in Lyons
She knew every one in Lyons-it was her
native place.
AS we spoke Of residences and places she
preferred, asked:
How do you like PARISH
"Oh, monsieur, do I like Paris? Is it
possible for any one to ask such a ques-
tion?'
But she began to talk of Paris with
such ardor-such onthusiasm--I said to
myself, "This Is the string to pull. She
said she had never seen Paris-she adored
1t from afar off with the keen zest of a
provincial-with the longings of bird
who gazes at the wild, free woods from
the window where he is imprisoned. Then
she began to question me with almost
breathless eagernoss She wanted to know
at once.
Do you know Alphonse Daudet and M.
Sardou-oh, he Is gay, SO amusing-and
N. Zola-he always makes me cryY Aft
Or reading one Of his books, I am i'll for a
week."
She ran on In this way for about an
hour; then her questions began to be ex-
hausted and 1t was my time to talk.
related all the stories Of the fashiona-
BILE world could think Of. gave her
idea Of the grand danes Of Paris.
her curiosity In the most fantas-
tic manner, told wonderful adventures of
the gay city. She listened with all her
BARS and all her heart. Then I Knocked
with cruel irony all those poor women
who were bound to husbands who did not
them and could not understand
their delicacy Of sentiment.
The little woman said no more-only
sighed now and then-and once she asked:
lis 1t really like that in the gay worldp''
The night had come-soft and warm
The great steamer, throbbing from her
glided over the sea, beneath
IN immense canopy Of violet sky, starred
with drops Of fire. Suddenly my neighbor
was up and saying:
"It is late. Imust retire. Bon soir,
monsieur"
I answered, "Bon scir, madam" and
The was gone.
knew she must take the night dill
gence from Daslia to Ajaccio- there was
no other way to GROSS the mountaina--soI