By Two Women of The West   COPYRIGHT 1893, BY ARENA PUBLISHING COMPANY. All rights reserved....

You know how certain kinds of music will beat everything out of your consciousness except a wild delirium of joy; how love of a woman will take up every cranny of space in your being,—and fill the universe beside,—so that people who are not en rapport with the strains that delight you, or with the beauty that enthralls you, seem pitiable creatures, not in touch with the Divine Harmony, with Supreme Loveliness. So it was with me, when I set my feet on Mars! My soul leaped to its highest altitude

Thus far, I had seen no women. I was curious on this point, and I was not kept long in suspense. Late in the afternoon of the day following my arrival, Severnius and I went out to walk about the grounds, and were returning through an avenue of eucalyptus trees,—of a variety more wide-spreading in their branches than any I have seen in our country,—when a person alighted from a carriage in the porte cochere and, instead of entering the house, came to meet us. It was a woman. Though it was not lef

It was winter, and snow was on the ground; white and sparkling, and as light as eider-down. Elodia kept a fine stable. Four magnificent white horses were harnessed to her sleigh, which was in the form of an immense swan, with a head and neck of frosted silver. The body of it was padded outside with white varnished leather, and inside with velvet of the color of a dove’s breast. The robes were enormous skins of polar bears, lined with a soft, warm fabric of wool and silk. The harness was bestrung

My contempt for Elodia vanished at the first intimation of her presence. I had expected to meet her with an air of cold superiority, but when she entered the dining-room that evening with her usual careless aplomb, the glance with which she favored me reduced me to my customary attitude toward her,—that of unquestioning admiration. Our physical nature is weak, and this woman dominated my senses completely, with her beauty, with her melodious voice, her singular magnetic attraction, and every cas

I was glad when spring came, when the trees began to bud, the grass to grow, the flowers to bloom; for, of all the seasons, I like it best,—this wonderful resurrection of life and sweetness! Thursia is a fine city,—not only in its costly and architecturally and æsthetically perfect buildings, public and private, but in its shaded avenues, its parks, lawns, gardens, fountains, its idyllic statues, and its monuments to greatness. Severnius took pains to exhibit all its attractions to me, driving w

During the time that intervened before the arrival of the Caskians, to make their proposed visit, I gleaned many more interesting hints from Severnius relative to their life and conduct, which greatly whetted my curiosity to meet them. For instance, we were one day engaged in a conversation, he, Elodia, and myself, upon the subject of the province of poetry in history,—but that does not matter,—when dinner was announced in the usual way; that is, the way which assumes without doubt that nothing

“Having established his equality with class after class, of those with whom he would live well, he still finds certain others, before whom he cannot possess himself, because they have somewhat fairer, somewhat grander, somewhat purer, which extorts homage of him.”— Emerson. It is scarcely egotistical for me to say that I was much sought after, not only by the citizens of Thursia, but by many distinguished people from other cities and countries. Among them were many men and women of great scienti

“It behoveth us also to consider the nature of him that offendeth.”— Seneca. The longer I delayed my visit to Caskia, the more difficult it became for me to tear myself away from Thursia. You may guess the lodestar that held me back. It was as if I were attached to Elodia by an invisible chain which, alas! in no way hindered her free movements, because she was unconscious of its existence. Sometimes she treated me with a charmingly frank camaraderie , and at other times her manner was simply, al

My conversation with Elodia had the effect of crystallizing my nebulous plans about visiting the Caskians into a sudden resolve. I could not remain longer in her presence without pain to myself; and, to tell the truth, I dreaded lest her astounding lack of the moral sense—which should be the foundation stone of woman’s character—would eventually dull my own. Men are notoriously weak where women are concerned—the women they worship. As soon as I had communicated with the Caskians and learned that

I have spoken of Ariadne, and promised to re-introduce her to you. You will remember her as the graceful girl who accompanied Clytia and her husband to Thursia. She had not made quite so strong an impression upon me as had the elder woman, perhaps because I was so preoccupied with, and interested in watching the latter’s meeting with Elodia. Certainly there was nothing in the young woman herself, as I speedily ascertained, to justify disparagement even with Clytia. I was surprised to find that s

I had a feeling, when I retired to my room that night, as if years lay between me and the portion of my life which I had spent in Paleveria. But across the wide gulf my soul embraced Severnius. All that was beautiful, and lovable, and noble in that far-off country centered in him, as light centres in a star. But of Elodia I could not think without pain. I even felt a kind of helpless rage mingling with the pain,—remembering that it was simply the brutality of the social system under which she ha