Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1914-01-07
DOROTHEA'S CAREER
Her Lover Was Not One Who
Would Accept Pity in Place
of Love.
Rv DOROTHY DIX.

4
while telling you that" he went on,
! deprecatingly, you have known it SO
long / think there has never been
time when l haven't loved you since
| that first day in school, when | looked
up and saw you standing before me
such a mite of a girl with great fright
ened blue eyes, and long golden curls.
There isn't a fiber of my heart that
you are not entwined with, not a
thought, or aspiration, or dream that
doesn't center in you, and if | have
tried harder than most to do things,
and keep myself-clean-it has been
because l wanted to make myself
little WOrthier of you
Il am sorry, Tom,' the girl replied
in a cool, level voice. She was sitting
on little hillock, and she looked down
at the man at her feet with the calm,
dispassionate regard Of goddess con-
templating a worshiper. I'm sorry,
she went on, eff l have to disappoint
you because you know I'm really
I fond of you, but l am not like other
girls. l don't care for love, or SEN
timent, or marrying, or-Or-er-
things like that. l intend devoting my
life to art.
Art" cried the young man bitter
| ly; don't you think that is rather a
poor substitute for hearth"
"Oh, of course you would say that"
retorted the girl hotly, her pretty,
tender, mutinous young face flushing
to the roots of her hair; you are a
man, and you would deny woman
the right to exercise her God-given
talents, and make a career for herself.
l only wonder" with scornful re-
proach, that you don't say what papa
did last when l told him that intend
ed to pursue a career"
What did your father say?" in
quired the young man, miserably.
HE said: Don't be fool replied
the girl with perfect solemnity.
Tom Wharton's lips curled in grim
smile, but he was too much in earnest
to be amused. Il tell you, what, Dol
| lie,' he began.
"Dorothea," corrected the goddess
from the top of her pedestal.
"Dorothea," he amended, marry me,
and you shall have a studio all rugged
up with prayer rugs, and bric-a-brac.
and hangings, and all sorts Of junk of
that kind, where you can paint away
all you like, and"
ooh, you don't understand" she in
terrupted; that wouldn't be being an
artist, that would merely be making
painting a fad, like Mrs. CadWallader
Brown, who just dabbles in art be-
ween pink teas. NO." with a rapt
gaze at where the sun was sinking be-
hind the tall poplars along the river;
mo, | shall dedicate my entire life to
art l am going to New York to study
a couple of years, and then to Paris,
and
And what of your father and
mother?" inquired the young man;
you are their only child, and all
your life they have looked forward
to the time when you would be grown,
and would brighten and cheer their
old age with your companionship, and
fill their big house with gay young
company Are you going to leave
them lonely?"
Il am sorry for them, too" replied
the girl in a lower tone, but | have
duty to myself, as we'll as to them.
Besides they don't understand me.
They want me to dance, and go to
parties, and be just a society girl
when my soul yearns after the in
finite Oh, to be famous, to hear
the plaudits Of the multitude, to see
your picture hung on the line! And
Professor Alleghretti say there is moth
ing | may not achieve. He says my
technique is really wonderful, and"
Damn Alleghretti," exclaimed the
young man under his breath, but the
girl heard it and rose up stif1y.
IF you are going to be rude about
it, she said, coldly, Il think we had
better end this conversation; its time
to go home anyway"
In silence they made their way
along the path where the dusk was
beginning to thicken until they
reached the garden gate, and then
the man began speaking again.
Each Of us must follow our own
way, SUPPOSE he said, drearily, but
if the time ever comes"
"Oh, l know what you are going
to say" Dollie interrupted with
roguish smile, that you will always
be faithful to me, and that if l ever
tire of art, and want to marry, you
will be waiting for me, and l will
only have to send you a pressed
| flower or"
mo, by Jove!" cried the young
man sternly, life is too big and fine
a thing to be wasted for any woman's
whim, and l am not one of the senti-
mental weaklings who would take pity
for love. The woman who becomes my
wife must come to me freely and glad
| ly-or not at ALL and turning on his
heel, he strobe off, leaving the girl
staring after him, with the conscious
ness of seeing a new man in her old
| playmate.
| Hovo