Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1915-09-10
CHAPTER VIII.


TNHE Padlocked Book-In this book
l. am going to write you. Louis, letter
which will never be delivered, because I
shall burn it when 1t is finished. Yet that
will not prevent my tantalizing you, about
It, To the padlocked book can say what
] want to say. To you l must say what
is expedent.
That is foolish woman who does vio-
lence to love by inordinate loving. Yet
first I will tell you that 1 sink to sleep
saying, He loves me-! and rise to the
surface saying, HE loves me!" and sink
again saying, He loves me!' all night
long.
The days when I see you are real days.
finished and perfect, and this ia the best
of them all. God forever bless In paradise
your mother for bearing you If you
never had come to the world should
not have walked in life myself, and
why this is 1 cannot tell. The first
time I ever saw your tawny head and
tawny eyes, though you did not notice
me, I said. Whether he is the king or
not would make no difference" Because
1 knew you we're more than the king
to me,
Sire. you told me once you could not
understand why people took kindly ia
you. There is in you a gentle dignity
and manhood. most royal. AS you come
into room you cast your eyes about
unfearng.
Your head and shoulders are erect. You
are like a lion in suppleness and tawny
color, which influences me against my
will. You inspire confidence. Even girls
like Annabel. who feel merely at their
| finger ends, and are as we'll satisfied with
one husband as another, know you to be
solid man. not the mere image of a man,
Besides these traits there is a power
| going out from you that takes hold OF
| people invisbly. My father told me there
was a man at the court of your father
| who could put others to sleep by waving
of his hands. I am not comparing you tC
| this charlatan; yet when you touch my
hand a strange current runs through me
When we were in Paris l used to dress
myself every morning like priestess
! going to serve In temple And what
| was ii for? To worship one dear head
for half an hour perhaps.
| You robbed me of the sight OF you fol
| two months.
You are two persons. Lazarre belongs
| to me. He follows. he thinks about me
He used to slip past my windows at Lake
| George, and cast his eyes up at the panes
| But Louis is my sovereign. He sees ano
thinks and acts without me, and his lot
| is apart from mine.
We are in a ship going to the side ol
I
| we are going towards you, 1t is like
being pushed off a cliff. All my faith IL
the appearances of things is at an end
l have been juggled with. have mis-
judged.
| could have insisted that we hole
Mont-Louis as tenants. The count is oul
| friend. 1t is not a strong mans faul
that a weak man is weak and unfortu
nate. Yet seeing Cousin Philippe vince
l could not put the daily humiliation upor
him. He is like my father come back
broken, helpless. And Paul and l, wht
are young, must take care of him wher'
he will be least humbled.
Why should we lay up grievances
against one another? They must disap
| pear, and they only burn our hearts.
Sometimes I put my arms aroun'
Ernestine and rest her old head agains
me. She revolts. People incline to doub
the superiority Of a person who will as
sociate with them. But the closer ou
poverty rubs us the more Ernestine in
sists upon class differences.
There should be a colossal mother goinl