The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1896-07-08
ONLY A WOMAN.

1t was Helen's Hoyt's third revolu-
ton i'm the fashionable maelstrom call
ed society" and as yet, though slight
ly giddy, she had not lost her head.
Neither had she lost her heart, al
belt she was twenty-five, and there are
young women who think if they still
retain possession of their hearts up To
that advanced age they are destined TO
hold them forever.
Ii may be doubted if she had heart
to lose. She had heart, but her head
went with it, and, when woman's
head goes with her heart, she seldom
loses it. She may let it go into the
keeping of a man, but that is not al
ways losing it, as the term is generally
applied, among sentimentalists. She
knows where it is, and it is never be-
yond recall. These are the sensible
people of the world. Never enthusi-
asts, but always trustworthy, and
steady to the end, come veal or come
woe, if so be that the hol ers of their
hearts are worthy. Heroines they may
be, sacrificing everything to motives
higher than mere sentiment.
That Helen Hoyt was such a woman
could not be said definitely, but there
was evidence to that effect in the cir
cumstances that three men were swing
ing uncertainty in balance before her.
This il beyond the power of the emo
tional enthusiast. She may have three
men i'm the balance at three different
times, but never three at one time.
She chooses first, and the man puts
himself in the balance afterward.
As young as she was, she had rea-
soned three things out for herself, aid
ed and abetted somewhat by the coun-
sci of the Colonel, man twice herage,
veteran of many emotional battles,
and ripe experience, which had new
er been rudely shocked by matrimony.
She had seen him much oftener than
the three men i'm the balance, and she
had discussed them with him, not al.
ways directly, as if she were the inter
ested person, but oftenest under the
thin veil of supposititious case, as is
the custom of men and women whose
experience needs remedy which they
are too diffident TO ask for openly.
Fortunately for such, there are those
who will humor them.
This afternoon Miss Hoyt sat in the
quiet drawing room, thinking. The
Colonel and she had talked long time
the day before on this to her all i'm
portant subject, and he was TO come
again at o'clock. To add to the in
terest of the Colonels visit of counsel,
their last talk had not been of sup
posititious case, but he had made il di'
rectly personal, and she had not denied
that she was the previously supposed
young woman whose destiny was to be
determined by questions, analysis, and
reason.
"Ah, me-" she thought, "w hat
study the heart is. l wonder if all wo-
mems hearts are as mine will persist in
being? know many men, but of them
all it seems there is not one that fills it
and Alice, who is the dearest of girls
saws there can be but one. And tn,
Colonel-well, the Colonel tried t.
point out the way, but he seems to OBJ
scure it by his own presence. OF then
all, three stand out distinctly, asking
me to choose. My head says "chcose,
bat my heart remains dumb. If i
should speak, / wonder what it would
say? | wonder ifin all the world ther,
is no magic touch to break its seal o
silence. There stands the professor, :
man much older than myself, grav'
man, noble-hearted and good, devoted
to his scientific studies and rising in hi
profession i'll at ease and slow o
speech in the tumult of society mani
testing his brilliancy only in SOM
philosophical or scientific discussion
with men reserved, yet loving me, h
says, with an ardent yet absorbing love
which must be the pledge of happy
comfortable future. But is it true
Does woman find in science and phil
osophy what her heart Graves? VIII
the man who is so profoundly interest
ed in these subjects find his wife substi
tute for them? His sweetheart she ma,
be for the time, but the Colonel says
there is much difference between swee
heart and a wife i'm most mems minds
and | wish / didn't half believe tn
Colonel"
She laughed short, hard laugh, an
looked out of the window a moment q
a man and maid as they walked slowl
along, very intent upon each other.
"Sweethearts,n she said, almost cyl
ically, and became thoughtful again.
.-And next is the artist he
thoughts whispered TO her. The Co
onel says an artist is lovely to hang o
! the wall for ornament, but he is of III
certain value rs a piece of domesti
furniture. Still, like the artist yer
much indeed OF course, he is you'll
full, dreamy, and an idealist with til
\ onI l....l-l of lsnt ltff
things appeal to most young women ;
they appeal to me. Not to my ever,
day sense, perhaps, but to the artist
longings that move every refined sou
, aud hope | am sufficiently refined
appreciate the ideal, although | don
want to neglect the real. His slighte
attention is as graceful as sonnet, s
different from the clumsy, well-meaI
, efforts of the professor, but is il sincer'
, Does he not study it as he would stud
aud fashion love ditty to me? fo'
) sibly to some other girl. Men are d
ceivers ever. With wealth and lu,
uries lavished upon him, he fingers @
in retrospective glimpses of the pasl
his eyes, dimmed by the subdued fa'
ing tints of rare old tapestries, shrin
from the glare and hustle of the pre-
ent. A career the word has a brusqt
and martial sound that disturbs h
reveries, All, if life were only SUM
morning canoe afloat upon plac
stream with a volume of Ibsen and l
clock TO tick away the flight of tim