Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1905-09-29

understanding | ann afraid it would
also pass mine"
"Nou undcrrate yourself. Be
sides. after all. il is quite simple,
ouh benson l. such a material per
son. The Stock Exchange las made
linn worse Anyway, | am going To
tell YOU"
Yes" | said invitingly.
"Nou remember" hc said, set
Ting himself back in his chair, Il
had always my own views about wo-
men,"
"You expected a great DEAL" |
said.
WELL" he went on, not needing
the interruption, you know | can
well afford to marry. If | had found
the woman | wanted, | should have
married long ago. | could not find
her. much rs | sought. The clever
woman had no beauty, the beautiful
no brains. or. where the combination
did exist. the woman was already
married or had some equally pro
hibitive defect"
"lou sought for what did not eN-
ist," | said. "There Is no ideal wo-
man. as their is no ideal man."
Not in your sense" he said. Ger
tainlv not in the sense of man like
Benson. if he can conceive the pos
siblity of an ideal woman at all, or
an ideal anything"
"And in yours" | said.
He rose from his chair and, going
to long drawer in cabinet, took
out from it an armful of photo
graphs-there must, | should think,
have been some fifty there in all.
Gust look through these" he said.
| did so, wondering. Every type
of female face and female beauty
was there represented, from the
English and American woman to the
French and Austrian, from the Gre
ole to the Caucasian, from the
daughter of the people 10 the daugh-
ter of the peer. Some of the faces
might well have been those of saints
others were Individually those of sin
ners. Barmaids jostled against Sis,
tiers of Mercy. Actresses followed
on the princesses of the blood royal
Some of the faces were too nth
itarianly clever to approach physical
beauty. Others, again, proclaimed
the triumph of body over soul.
"Well?" | said at length, still
more astonished.
He spread out the photos on The
table before him, eying them loving
", fondling them as man fondlc'
the woman who is to be his wife
"There," he said, pointing to The
rows of faces before him, You have
a perfect type. | tried to find it ex
listing in one woman. You were
right. 1t was impossible, but
have got it there"
YES" | said, smiling at his inten
sitv. "but these are only mere pho
tographs. The essence of them con
stitutes the perfect type of woman
hood, no doubt, but these things ar
not alive. They are mere counter
felt presentments. You are not 1
nineteenth century Pygmalon. V
cannot make mere photograph
live
perhaps not" he said. "a
least, who can tell? | know tina
when | gaze long on these faces
conjure up from their various char
acteristics the perfect type of NO
man and can never care for any on
else-I mean any woman. This fac
| have erected represents to me tn
supreme essence of feminine lowell
ness, the one woman for whom
man should be glad to die, for whor
| would die, did she require me, thi
very minute. People tell you | ney
er 90 out anywhere. How can
when this splendid beauty smile
before me at home? | tell you
never lived till knew her, and nov
| cannot live with her. To me sh
is the one woman in this world o
the next. Indeed not the one VIC
man, but woman herself"
| left Wetherby's chambers hal
an hour later wondering if my oil
friend was going mad. As l turne
to close the door behind me | sa,
him suddenly bend down over tn
table and, sweeping the photograph
together into his arms, cover ther
with rain of passionate kisses.
Newfangled Diosenes.
An aged man in rags was see