The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1911-12-23
ever looks at me twice"

Nobody ever looks at me twice."
whole thing out deliberately, carefully,
laboriously 1t is not as IL were a
young girl. rushing blindly into fu-
ture apparently couleur de rose, buttn
reality full of pitfalls, deep, dark and
treacherous. l am a widow. have
been married once know. A burnt
child breads the fire. l am little
afraid Of n second venture, my friend.
"Your letter lies before me. The ad-
dress is blurred where I have kept 1t
warm against my heart. 1t is quite
evident that at present you are blind.
Love is always blind for little while
for very little while, alas! am
beautiful. / am charming. am al
ways in your thoughts. The fates
have willed that we shall be happy.
You are determined to see me again.
You await the word to come. One is
unconsciously charming. Many wom-
en- absolutely devoid Of beauty have
charmed. So may be that. but am
no longer beautiful. I was beautiful
once-that night trailed up the long,
perfumed aisle of befiowered cathe-
dral. the white bride of the man who
promised there to love, protect and
cherish me.
Love. protect, cherish! I fear I
have lost faith in the belief that mar
riages are made in heaven. Heaven
had little enough to do with that mar
rage.
"Yes; I was beautiful then and long
after. People turned to look Mt me
twice. Once two women passed me.
One said, Isn't she pretty?' And the
other replied, She is the prettiest wom-
an in this town
$50 you see / must have possessed
some real beauty to be admired by my
own sex. Mustn't H. But now. But
now! Nobody ever looks at me twice.
Nobody ever turns deliberately around
to look ut me. Their glances rest idly
upon me and pass-even those of the
little boys who used to do me homage,
even those of the little girls who used
to say: Look at her. She Is mine.
I'm going to be like her when I am
grown Does this seem puerile to
you? Does it seem childish?
1T is tragedy. A woman should die
OF her first wrinkle, for with 1t goes
homage and with homage, love.
"And am no longer young. All my
good, fresh youth was spent on that
marriage Of mine which was made in
heaven. have only the shadow Of
what was left for you. Besides. 1
am older than you. Written, those
seem ordinary words-just common,
ordinary, everyday words-but weigh
them. weigh them!
Il should behold my every defect mir
rored in your eyes. That poor shadow
of myself. which Is all have to offer
you. would haunt me there.
Then despairingly l should attempt
to revive that evanescent charm Won
say ] possess in the effort to win you
back and fail. for doubtless the charm
exists in your Imagination, now you
are blind. Seeing, it would cease to
exist.
Finally should stand by the side Of
some fair young girl and, reading the
comparison In those eyes of yours, suf-
fer untold tortures, only such tortures
as are known to the hearts of sup
planted women. Stay where you are.
That agony Is more than I could en-
dure and live. tremble. suffer in
anticipation. I suffer acutely. The
tears falling on the paper blot the
words
But this was the Christmas letter
she sent:
Come. Start at once. the moment
you receive this note. shall coxl
the days. the hours. the minutes. the
seconds, the heart beats, till ! see your
face"