The Laurens advertiser. (Laurens, S.C.) 1885-1973, 1902-04-30

are putting in a lot of time with Kate
Murchison, and the first thing you
know it will be love and a cottage and
goodbye to conservation to art and
the ideal"
He replied, smiling the superior
smile of the fatuous and complacent,
+" Don't concern yourself; | am simply
studying 'das ewige weiblichc,' and
getting material for a masterpiece"
"Ah, L see," said Charlie, You
have revised Pope's lines:
"'Be woman's way your study and de.
See her by day and dream of her by
night,
And thon the sale of books that you
may write
viii simply be, my boy, far out of
Accordingly he pursued his studies
very ardently, and found them more
and more pleasant as the days went by.
He derived an added if ignoble 10Y
from the worry this course of study
seemed to give II Howard Grlggsby.
Howard was a practical, Woodworking
young lawyer, who had always scoffed
at Percy's literary pretensions, and
who when they were boys at school
together had generally gone ahead and
o the prizes while he was dreaming
about them.
1t was amazing to Percy how much
lOvelier the world seemed to him when
Miss Murchison was with him. There
was something, he thought, hypnotic
about her presence. The sunlight was
never quite so golden as when flashed
back from her hair. Once he had given
her a rose, carelcs>ly observing and
enjoying its red crumpled petals, and
the perfume drifting from its amber
heart. She pinned it under her throat,
and as he looked at 1t again a miracle
seemed to have been wrought. 1t was
no longer a rose, but a flower somehow
fallen from the walls of paradise.
Still he did not realize he was in
love, but thought the feeling she pro-
duced in him arose from some occult
power that women possess. But once
she went off on a three weeks visit to
friends in Baton Rouge. 1t seemed to
him three years. Then he made the
great discovery. This at first did not
disconcert him. He at once resolved
to cast the passion out of his heart.
He would see her no more.
Though he had been very attentive
to her, he had never expressed
anything deeper than friendship, and
so could honorably retreat. How
could he devote his time to literature
with a wife to care for? Women are
such cXacting, egotisIic things, no
artist could think of marrying one of
theml He felt sure Kate would re-
gard herself as more important than an
/" exact adjective" or even a great
sonnet" No, he must not think of
marring his life by mating with such an
illogical, unreasoning, cXalting, alb
sorbing creature as a m If he
were married, he might have to write
for money and not for art. He burst
into a deep persplration at the mere
thought of such a sin against art.
1t was not yet too late. He would
break off, and she might marry some
man more foolish than he. Then he
thought of Howard Griggsby. She
might, she perhaps would marry How
ard. He started uncomfortably at this
thought. How could he bear to have
her marry Howard? Howard had al
ways gotten the things he desired and
rather looked down on him with con
tempt. Suppose now he should beat
Howard IN the thing Howard most de-
sired, who would have ground for ex-
ultance then? Who could afford to be
contemptu0us? Can we despise those
who WIN what we most desirc? Had
he better marry her after all, If he
could. Literary fame is sweet, but
distant, and love, too, is sweet and
near
He did not know what to do. He
pulled at his cigarette, but in it was
neither solace nor inspiration. He
flung it in the fire and strobe over to
the book case. He picked out a vol
ume of Browning, and opened it at
the poem, "Youth and Art" where
the poet tells of the two who had
achieved the fame as sculptor and
singer they desired, but at the price of
their love and happiness. He read
and re-read the stanza.
Z" Each life's unfulflled, you see;
1t hangs still, patchy and scrappy,
They have not sighed deep, laughted
free,
Starved, Toasted, despaired been
happy"
He threw down the book and chose
another. IL was Daudet's Femmes
DIES Artits." He read q while and
drew a sigh of relief, Daudet was a
man, no love sick rhymer. lie
had lived in Paris, where if any where
the artist can be known and studied.
Each of these artists of whom the book
told had married. Each of them had
been unhappy, hindered in their
development by their marriage.
They had sold their birthright for q
mess of pottage, nay, for the apples of
SOdom which had turned to ashes on
heir lips.
No, he would be true to himself and
10 his art. Even Howard might marry
her. And yet he must see her again.
lust n sight of the bright hair, the
red mouth, the rounded cheek to
light the loveless years of his literary
He removed his smoking
slammed the door and hurried
JOWarda the Murphison rn.idanca Ha |