Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1898-01-08

on one OCCASION, WneH Sue udtl eA-
pressed desire to see Duse in Mag
da, and he remarked thereupon, with
Il profusion of impulsive apologies, that
he was kept from the pleasure of tax
ing her to the performance by previ-
ous engagement, her face fell, and for
five minutes she did not answer his
questions and witticisms except in
rigid monosyllables. This augured
we'll for him, he thought. He did not
yield, but at the next walk they took
together he popped the question" in
rather original way.
They stood in front of the house in
which she had her room. He had bid
her goodnight and was about to doff
his hat with that dashing sweep of his
which makes him ten years younger,
when he checked himself, and said, as
though in jest:
''Is it not foolish, Parma Roush
etzka?"
"What is foolish?' she queried,
without shadow of presentiment as to
what was coming.
'Why, the way we go on living
separately, each without what could
Justly be called home. am madly
in love with you, Parma Roushetzka,
and I feel like devoting my life to
your happiness.
She stood eyeing the door of a
house across the street and made no
response.
''Panna Roushetzkan' he implored
her tremulously.
'T'll give you my answer to-mor
row." she whispered.
"Mme. Roushetzka has not come
yet, has she? Any letters for me?"
Smirnoff asked the next evening, as he
entered the little restaurant with his
usual blitheness. Like some others
of the customers he received his mail
at the restaurateur's address.
The Frenchman handed him letter.
When he opened it he read, in Rus
sian, the following:
"Much respected Aleksey Alekse-
evitch--I am the unhappiest woman
in the world to-day. 1 confess 7 was
not blind to the nature of your feel
ings toward me, but was too much of
woman and an egoist to forego the
pleasure of your very hattering kind
ness to me. Forgive me, 1 pray you.
dear Aleksey Alekseevitch; but my
answer must be of a negative charac-
ter. L have been crying like baby
since last night for having led you
into false position. DO forgive me.
Your sincere friend,
"MARIA ROUsHETzKA.
"Do you forgive me? I beg you
again and again"
Smirnof' had had too many sue
cesses and failures in life to let this
defeat hurt his pride deeply. But he
was overcome with n poignant sense
of loneliness, coupled with a cruel
consciousness of his old age. At the
same time he sincerely regretted the
pain he had caused the widow, and
out of sympathy for her as well as for
the opportunity of seeing her, he
secured another interview with her,
which took place in one of the remote
hooks of Tompkins Square.
81 wish to reassure you, Parma
Roushetzka," he said, gravely, "and
to restore peace to your mind. I love
you, and your letter leaves me
more wretched and desolate than 1
ever felt before, but believe me your
happiness is dearer to me than my
own, and since you find that it would
be disturbed by your marrying me I
am resigned to my fate"
The panna was overjoyed and
thanked him heartily for this friend
ship, and yet his ready surrender, the
ease with which he was getting recon
ciled to her refusal nettled her.
However, he did not seem as light
hearted as he was affecting to be, and
the perception of it was source of
mixed exultation and commiseration
to her. He was uncommonly ELUSIVE
and sentimental, and as if by way of
bidding her melancholy farewell he
launched out, describing his past, she
listening to his disconsolate accents
with heartwringing interest.
81 know it is foolish for me to OBJ
trude my personal "reminiscences upon
you. Why should you be bored with
the humdrum details of the life Of a
man who is perfect stranger to you
Yet 1 cannot help speaking Of it at
this minute. / feel sheepish, like IL
schoolboy, but it somehow relieves my
overburdened heart. You will excuse
me-"
She was burning to offer some word
of encouragement, to assure him of
her profound respect and friendship,
and of her interest in everything he
had to say, but her tongue seemed
grown fast to her palate and she could
not utter syllable.
"It was many years ago that I was
torn from my dear native soil and
from splendid career, he proceeded,
egged on by the very taciturnity of
his interlocutor 81 was n young fell
low and an officer in the army then,
with most promising future before
me. 1t was during the Polish insur-
rection of the early sixties. My regi-
ment was stationed at the Government
city of N"
The panna gave start, and n volley
of questions trembled on the tip of her
tongue, but she somehow could not
bring herself to interrupt him.
Il had been recently graduated
from the military school, and that was
my first commission, he went on. 81
had many friends in the regiment,
and among them young Polish Off
Ger named Staukeyitch "