Fancy my astonishment when ten years later I met the stately Mrs. Beuland in the lobby of my hotel in Reno. I had not seen her since her marriage; the only difference the years had made, apparently, was that now she was a woman instead of a girl, and yes, there was just a wisp of snowy white hair among the black locks about her forehead, which made her look even more aristocratic, if that was possible.
When one is lonely and alone in a strange place, it is most agreeable to find an unexpected friend; and when one has a heavy heart, it is good to confide in a sympathetic friend; so Mrs. Beuland and I became close companions. I was fortunately able to lend a helping hand and cheer the lonely way of this charming and much loved woman. One day as we were chatting on the banks of the Truckee, she said to me: "Do you know, it does seem such a pity that one of the most beautiful things on earth really causes the most trouble!" "What is that?" I replied. "Youthful ideals," she replied.
"For a youthful ideal I have paid long years of misery, and have spent that time as an apprentice in the workshop of wisdom. Tardy wisdom, the mother of all real enduring happiness. Because of a youthful ideal I did not marry the man I really loved; instead I married the man I thought I loved. I wanted to be the companion and friend and ideal mate and intellectual partner through life to the man I married; those were my ideals.
"The moment I promised myself to the man I loved I found myself clasped tightly in passion's mad embrace; a mad passion by youth's fierce fires fed; his kisses hotly pressed on my lips burned into my very soul and made my heart sick. Was that love? It was certainly not my ideal, to be the toy of mad passion!
"Ah! where was wisdom's tardy voice that it did not whisper: 'God made men thus: there are no perfect men!'….
"How true it is that ideals are simply mental will-o'-the-wisps!….
"I married for ideals, not for love. I was in love with the ideal, and the man I married led me to believe he was that ideal; picture my heart-aching disappointment when I found that his art was his real bride, and that I was a sort of understudy; hardly that, after the first few months. I awoke to the fact that I had exchanged my youth and freedom for a domestic mill that sank all my ideals into commonplace. I said I would make my own mistakes and I did. Then came the long battle with my pride, and I suffered in silence. For seven long years I faced neglect and humiliation; and then one day after a visit to my old home, I returned to find my husband and one of his models occupying my very home…. my very bed. I turned and left the place without a word.
"For the first time in my life I grew bitter; I wondered if it were true, that realization kills all the joys we anticipate; if all our rosy dreams turn gray in the face of cold reality.
"I was sick at heart and alone, too proud to go to anyone with my troubles; it seemed to me that day by day the color was fading out of my life. I had for years given all my love gifts only to answer duty's call and one by one the leaves of my romance began to fall, until jealousy, like a cancer, had eaten into my aching heart, and left me stripped of everything, even hope….
"My thoughts were muddled; I could not think clearly: it was a day in early June: I did not know where to go, and I did not want to meet anyone I knew. I never knew quite how or why, but a few hours later I found myself in Atlantic City. I arrived there in the evening and after refreshing myself, I walked out on the board walk and almost to the end of it, until there was no one in sight: and then I went down on the sand and there I seated myself. I thought, with the big silver moon overhead and the waves breaking on the shore, I should be able to think out some plan for the future. I don't know how long I sat there, but I know the only thoughts that came to me were that in my case I was forever through with romance, sentiments and ideals. There was a storm raging in my soul, and bitter resentment in my heart; I had meant so well and it had all come to this. I looked at my watch: it was nearly eleven; I suddenly realized that I had forgotten to dine, that my head ached and that I was tired. I got up and started back to the hotel. Then a miracle happened; it sounds like fiction but I swear it is the truth…..