Daily inter mountain. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1881-1901, 1901-04-20

I was what is generally called a
happy man. when one day we had vio-
| lent discussion, and in spite of the thous-
| and fo:ies l had committed for her, the
! pretty comedienne declared that she
would never see me or hear my name
| again.
| My heart was broken. but l did not
wish to show my grief and calling all my
pride to my aid. feigned perfect COM
posture. In order to simulate complete
indifference l determined to leave Faris
! for a time. l would go to my grand
mothers where my room was always
ready and waiting for me. l counted on
my departure to soften Laurence's feel
ings and I was sure that after two or
three days of absence l should receive
tiny perfumed note telling me to return.
I had told no one of my plans and
it was quite by chance that Il entered
our patriarchal mansion the evening of
a family reunion.
You can imagine how surprised they
were! My grandmother. my aunts. my
cOusins-of whom the eldest Yvonna had
worn short ddresses the last time | had
seen her--all pressed around me; they all
embraced me quite turning my head. If
l had not left Larence behind it woulu
have been wholly charming.
The first few days though l enjoyed the
delights of country idleness at bottom I
was Impatient and nervous. l sent for
my Paris mail; letters and papers of all
kinds came, but the letter l was wait
ing for did not appear. Day by day
passed without bringing me any news.
Decidedly Laurence suked we'll AMI l
began to fear that she was obstinate
about our failing out After fifteen days
I lost hon h., had l1,,.1
What should l do?
My pride was gone. l made up my
mind to beg her pardon, although she
was the one in fault. This decision made
l shut myself up in my room to write to
her.
What did l say in my letter? Heavens!
All that a young and foolish head like
mine could think of! My despair. my love
my regret; excuses. promises, vows. 1t
al flowed like a single stream from my
fevered pen. and it was not until reach
I'd the last page that thought of stop-
ping. With a firm hand l signed my
name, when, oh misery! My pen agitated
by too much emotion gave little start
and threw great blot of ink on the
white paper
l could not think Of sending this love-
sick epistle illustrated by spot like
| this. There was nothing to do hut to
write it over again. Instead of following
| This simple method, however, it came into
my head to try to erase the blot. II,
| seemed to me that this letter written in Il
! fever. was so fiery hot and so convincing
that it would touch the hardest heart.
In copying it might change it in some
way and make it less powerful.
! How could l get this cursel spot
out? l cid not find anything on my ta-
! Ele that l could use for this purpose and
l Thought of my cousins. Careful little
girls are always well provided with such
articles. l raised my voice: "Yvonne:' I
| cried.
My door partly opened and my cous-
| ms head appeared.
Have you an eraser or a knife? Some
thing to take out a spot?'
''Spct?"
Eyes. on this letterto friend. l have
just made a huge blot
Just wait and Ill bring you what
you want"
She ran to her room and came back a
minute afterwards with collection OF