Life, 1898-02-24 · page 7 of 20
Life — February 24, 1898 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Studies in Demonology" - Life Magazine, Page 147 This page features a serialized story titled "Studies in Demonology" with both text and illustration. The narrative concerns a young woman (apparently named Edith) who has rejected a suitor's marriage proposal. The dialogue reveals the rejected man is pressuring her to reconsider, claiming she's being unfair and asking her to read his written pleading. The accompanying illustration shows a woman in an elegant dress confronted by demonic or supernatural figures in a dark interior—likely visualizing the psychological torment of unwanted romantic pursuit. The satire mocks persistent, manipulative courtship tactics of the era, where rejected suitors would appeal to women's sympathy rather than accept refusal. The "demonology" framing suggests such pressure is devilish behavior.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ae ['M 0 glad that you have proved sensi- ble, dear, Just think, child, to-morrow a Coun- tess!” “Yes, mamma, a Coun- tess! And Jack, poor Jack—” “Poor, yes; poor as a church-mouse! But that’s over, thanks to your father’s good sepse. Don’t worry about that fellow, Edith, He's probably head over heels in love with some artist's model by this time. 1] never could bear Bohemians!” Mrs, Worthington kissed her daughter night, and, passing from the house, sank back on the cushions of her carriage and was whirled tothe Harnleys’ reception. Edith walked to the couch where her wedding-gown lay, ready to be donned on the morrow—the morrow that would make goo her a Countess. Oh, it was good to be young, and rich, and beautiful, and a Coun- tess! What more could mortal’s heart de- certainly, nothing, , Manners +” “I—you—I met someone on the street ‘To-morrow a Counte “It was Mr. Jack, Miss Edith.” Er—what *” “Don't be angry! He looked so sad, and— and—” “Lam not angry—tell me.” And asked me to bring you a letter.” You refused ?” I did; but he insisted, and—” “You brought it? Give it to me!” “He was always so nice, Miss Edith, and he looked so sad—” “Ah, Jack’s writing! Go—go, Manners— “ Worse things than that might befall you.” 147 But why has he never written before? Three months, and not a line—not a word! Does he know—she’s gone, thank Heaven! “My Darling: “*Tam distracted, I have tried so often, have begged so hard. Why did you not read my pleadings, instead of returning them unopened? In spite of it all, in spite of the fact that I'am refused admittance to your home, I cannot believe, till you tell me yourself, that you no longer lov Tonly ask this: If you ever really cared, place two lights in your window. I will wait all night where I may see them. Let it be asignal that you will grant me one word. You will have but to come to the entrance; I will be waiting for you. I shall not seck to enter, I shall not attempt to molest you. But I must hear from your own lips that you have ceased to care for Your utterly wretched Jac And to-morrow, a Countess! Just then the Devil entered. ‘Good-even- ing. You can't have forgotten me? She smiled wearily. “Forgotten you? No; I bel ‘ouare of my acquaintance— not an intimate one, however.” 4 t. Worse things than that might befall you.” “Indeed ?”