The citizen-Republican. (Scotland, Bon Homme County, S.D.) 1???-19??, 1910-04-21
LACK OF SUNSHINE
(By Guy de Maupassant.)

sitting in the warm sunlight watching the
crowd of promenaders on the beach. She
had walked only twenty steps from the
house to the beach, and still she was al
most dead from exhaustion. Her face was
pale as death, and a terrible cough from
to time shook her delicate body.
She smiled.
How happy I amt" she whispered.
And still she knew that she must soon
die-knew that before the coming OF the
next spring she would have been buried;
but the thought had no dread for her.
She recalled to her memory her whole.
past life. Four years ago her parents had
given her in marriage to a tall, broad
shouldered, good-natured nobieman. who
owned a large estate in Normandy.
It was all rranged by her parents. Her,
feelings had never been consulted. but
the idea that she might refuse had never
entered her mind. She was then still the,
gay, ~light-hearted child of sunny Paris.
Her husband carried her off to his castle
in Normandy, an enormous granite build
ing with immens towers and surrounded
by a moat, standing in the midst of lark
forests.
When she arrived she had shuddered at
the sight of the cold looking building, and
said with a smile:
'"That does not look very gay!"
"Oh you will Don get used to it," her
husband had said, IAN you will learn to
love it as I do"
The next day she started to arrange
the rooms according to her taste. This
took about a month. After that the days
passed in cherries monotony.
Summer came and she went into the
fields and LOOKED at the reapers at work
and enjoyed the bright sunshine.
Then came the fall. Her husband went
hunting. For days and weeks she never
saw him except for an occasional glimpse.
at dawn, when she saw him leaving the!
castle with his dogs. When he was home
he was always kind to her with the same
kindness that he gave to his horses and
dogs.
After autumn came winter, the dark,
dreary, gloomy winter of the north. Rain,
rain and always rain! Day after day the
clouds were hanging low, always hiding
the sun, always deluging the ground with
never ceasing rain. Day after day she sat
at the window, looking out onto the
melancholy landscape, signing for a ray of
sunlight. And how cold she felt, though
great logs were burning In the immense
freplaces. Her husband, used from boy
hood to all sorts of weather, was always
out from morning till night, looking after
| the work on his estate. It never occurred
to him that she might feel lonesome.
When he came home nights and they
met at the dinner table II, the immense
cheerless dining hall, she always greeted
him with a pleasant smile. She bore her
| loneliness WlluOul d COLlpidlill. ~
But when December came, with snow
and ice, she could not stand the cold any
longer.
Henri" she said one night to her hus-
band, would you not get a heating stove
for my rooms, that the walls might get
dry? I feel chilled every day."
He broke out laughing.
"A heater! Why, that's a funny idea!
We never had a heater here before.
Throw some more logs on the fire, and
you will be as comfortable as I; and be-
sides it will soon be spring"
The month after that she lost her
parents in a railroad accident. She went
to Paris for the funeral. and during the
next six months she was wild with grief.
The summer sun cheered her a little, but
the summer soon passed and was followed
by a dismal utumn. Joy had gone out of
her life. She asked herself many times
why she did not put an end to her cheer
less existence. She had nothing to hope
for, nothing to live for. Her family physi-
clan had told her that she would never
lave children
Several times during the winter she
asked her husband for a heater, but he al
ways laughed at her.
One night he came home and noticed
that she had been crying. He looked at
her in surprise when she told him that she
had felt lonely and that she longed for
sunlight and heat.
'Wny, 1 never learO the ike OF Inat. l
nave never In my life felt lonesome. And
the idea that you feel cold is really rtdicu-
lous imagination. You are never sick. You
have not even had a cold"
She did not reply. but went to her room
and went to bed.
SO she must be sick before he would be-
leve her. Well, then, she would just get
sick and cough until he gave her q stove.
In the middle OF the night she rose from
her bed, opened the large windows which
reached to the floor, and sat there SILVER.
ing in her light nightdress for two hours
but she could not cough. Then she got
real angry, opened the door and walked
down stairs out into the garden across the
bridge in her naked feet through the snow
as far az the woods.
Then she turned back, exhausted from
exposure, and three times she thought
that she would faint before she reached
her room and went to bed.
The next morning she coughed and wa.
unable to get up. The physician wa!
called in and declared she had a bad at
tack OF pneumonia. She was delirtous To-
many days, and talked Of nothing but thu
heater she wanted. Her husband drov'
like a mailman to the nearest town to ge
one, which he placed in her room with hi
own hands.
AS he was lighting q fire in it she re
turned to consciousness and looked at hin
smilingly.
III LIE MedIlIlII1e IQo DOCTOR gave II
hope. Her lungs were ruined and her con
dition gave rise to the gravest fear.
IF she stays here" said the physician
the frost will kill her"
Her husband sent her south. She cam
to Cannes, and under the genial rays c
the Mediterranean sun she seemed to re
vive, and she revealed in the view OF tn
blue ocean and inhaled with pleasure tn
fragrance Of the orange blossoms. Sti
shs had one continuous fear that sh
might recover and she dreaded to retur
to the cold and cherries north. AS 500
as she was a little better she sat at TIL
open window for hours dreaming abor
q happiness which had never been hers.
Now, however, she knew that she wa
going to die and the thought gave her
feeling Of supreme happiness. She opene
a newspaper and started to read. The fir:
headline which struck her was this: Fir.
Snow in Paris" She shuddered at til
thought of snow and then smiled. She b.
gan to feel cold. Even the pleasant bree7