Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1896-08-15
A MOTHERS TRIUMPH

A MOTHERS TRIUMPH
knew right along that Maurice was
in the habit Of paying court to every
other woman Of his acquaintance pro.
vided she was pretty, and irrespective
Of the fact whether she was married OF
betrothed or not The boy seemed to pay
no attention whatever to details, but il
never occurred to me to be jealous, ex-
cept in the case Of this Juliette.
His gallant adventures, his conquests
among theatrical ladies and young
women Of all sorts-what were they to
me? Pah, it all struck me as rather
amusing. Indeed, felt a sort Of pride
seeing that emancipated as well as
strictly proper girls ran into his nets
like futtering larks attracted by the
glamour Of his young fame, by his en-.
chanting disposition and his correct
manners.
And if you consider things rightly,
did not his success reflect credit upon
myself too? This artist who had become
famous in night, whose past was the
promise of most brilliant future, was
he not flesh Of my flesh, blood Of my
blood? I became widow soon after his
birth and never entertained any other
wish but to find consolation in his love-
Because had gladly relinquished every
thing in order to save the means for his
education, the development Of his tai
ents, his glory was as fully my work as
his personal beauty. At least I thought
SO, and think so still. Unlike other
mothers, had recognized his genius
from the start, and had nurtured and
helped expand it; therefore was I not
entitled to share in his greatness?
And such a grateful child he was
full Of tenderness for his old mother,
this sweetheart of an artist, this artist
in the realms Of love. Even before per-
feet strangers he used to call me "dear-
est mamma. A big boy he was, and
still eager to do my biddings at all
hours, to fulfill my slightest wishes.
Yet none Of his teachers had ever sue
ceeded in subduing his independent
spirits. They might run after him ever
SO long, these ladies, boasting Of his
acquaintance. I knew it well-he used
them only to kill time, changing sweet
hearts as often as the horses from the
livery stable which he rode in the Bots.
The only woman that had any influence
upon his life, his adviser, his conf
dant, she that filed his heart, was his
mother.
He met this Juliette in middle class
society-that society which inclines to
think itself Of the first water and likes
to "coquet" with artists, because the
great Of this world honor them with in
vitations. She was no longer young
girl, had been flirting a good deal and
had stood several times on the very
threshold Of the altar I hated her at
first sight, but must admit she was
pretty. The hair Of the red Of English
mahogany, her complexion was Of that
dull whiteness and was SO excessively
delicate one might be afraid to spoil IL
by kiss. Add to this eyes of very
peculiar, very dark, very moist green.
ish tint, the color Of alga seaweed Like
the rest Of them, she fell in love with
Maurice, and my boy was equally in-
fatuated with her, for every time he
finds new love he imagines for the
first six weeks at least, that it is the
great passion. As for me, I looked on
without shadow of alarm. The great
passion indeed He had enjoyed half a
dozen Of the sort since Christmas. Still,
when Maurice painted Juliette's por-
trait her moist, cold, alga eyes began
to make me uneasy. read in them
nothing Of that admiration, that limit
less devotion, which other women paid
to and felt for my boy.
Maurice seemed to be in a state Of
He was nervous, excited,
disinclined for work. True, he told me
funny little stories as usual and tried
to appear unconcerned, but his heart
was not in ii.
Three times he began the portrait
anew, and as often it turned out fail
ure, Juliette telling him so plainly. All,
that girl knew not moderation in any
even toward my Maurice.
Summer came She was to leave for the
II will try a fourth time"
said Maurice. Maybe that am more
fortunate in the quietude Of rural life. !"
Juliette's parents, You must know,
have a chateau in the Touraine, and in
vited Maurice to spend few weeks
with them. Ut course, he had to wait
some time after Juliette's departure for
sake. But, oh, how the sep
aration affected the boyi His spirits al
ways depressed and his love Of work e.
tirely gone, his creative gsnius seemed
10 have taken fight As for me ! SUI.
Tered az much. for, poor boy, be refused
to confide his sorrows to me. It was the
arst time that he did 80. The namecl
Juliette never passed his lips and when
| tried to turn the conversation upon
The loved subject loved by him-his
face hardened and his eyes looked fierce.
And that to me, his old mother. Had he
ever done such a thing beforep He was
entirely changed, this boy.
He went away. For a month and q
half ! was entirely alone He returned
The old and happy, devil may care lad.
You should have seen the joyous man
ner in which he greeted me. Everything