The Winchester weekly appeal. [volume] (Winchester, Tenn.) 1856-1856, 1856-07-26
WINCHESTER, TENN, SATURDAY, JULY &C. 1856.

believe the creature has sentiment; |
know she has feeling; but her first per.
vading, restless spirit is mirth. Her very
presence is the soul Of joyousness; she
dances as though her feet had unseen
wings. And then her laugh-O, it is
the silvcry gush of gladness. Her face
is classical in its contour, but there are
so many phases to the beauty Of bru.
nctte, and each one more enhancing than
the preceding, that it is impossible for
pen or pencil 10 show them forth. Her
eyes, one moment you would swear
affirm, mean-were Of the softest hazel,
and the next, as black as night; her hair
is dark chestnut color, curling bewitch,
ingly. I'd not call her lips rosy, they
are of deeper, rudlier hue. have it
now: they are like rich June rose. leaves,
dipped in wine. AS to her manner, she
has, it must be confessed. "a little too
much n0iOete. But she is so Young
scarce sixteen; and then she had, it seems,
the most accommodating guardian angels,
as she has never known a sorrow. re-.
gard her innocent breaches of strict deco
rum with great leniency. For instance,
while giving her lesson this morning,
she laid her delicate hand on my arm, and
said, with charming smile,
81 did not think that | should like you
half so we'll when first sawyou. find
we are strangely alike in many things"
Sophie, really felt called upon to kiss
that hand-l did, indeed. She only
laughed, dearest. ! don't believe she
thinks Of me, for she knows have only
moderate income; and her face can win
fortune. Indeed, she is pretty. A bru.
nette is fascinating creature, yet have
always thought the empire Of the blonde
over the affections the more enduring.
Kate is teaching ne waItzing. | know
it will give you pleasure to hear | am
| making rapid progress in this delightful
accomplishment. Were you a silly girl,
now, should learyour pouting over this,
and so, to soothe you, say, always fam
cy you my partner: that it is your dear
form | am whrlin3 about in the delicious
delirium Of the waltz. But don't tell
you any such thing; for | knowyou to be
sensible, high-mindcd woman, never
troubling yourself, or those who love you,
with unlounded doubts and suspicious.
Though my little friend is somewhat in
my confidence, | have never told her Of
our engagement. fear the madcar
could not keep it to herself, and love is
something far too delicate for the rough
atmosphere Of the world.
Kate is waiting for me to accompany
her to concert. Forgive the brevty o.
this. know you will there is nothing
in which have greater faith than in your
truth and goodness; they constitute lit.
tie heaven, of which am sole proprietor
Adieu, love. ]. r. r.
SOPHIE NoRToN's REPLY.
DEAR JAcK-l was surprised, pleased
delighted by your last letter. 1t is just
the most remarkable coincidence, quite q
romance in real life--'tis both funny and
STANCE. But must explain. Well
there lately arrived at Sweet, Briar Cot
tagc, Lieutenant Mortimer Lacy, Of the
army, my own cousin, and a splendid lel
low he is, Jack. He has such laultless
form and face, and so imposing an air
and then, he sports such love ola nous
tache, and his uniform is so becoming
Mortimer--( now nice it is to have pref
ty first name, Jack!)--says that he wa:
the talest cadet ever on parade at Yves
Point. | wish all men were tall; it is GER
tainly more natural to look upto Them
| wish all men were soldiers, too; there il
something so terribly grand in the profes
sion, and uniforms are so beautiful in ;
ball room. By the way, can't you pur
chase one. Jack? To be sure, Cousin Nor
timers would hang on you like suit o
/, alderman's clothes on your easel. No
: that the lieutenant is corpuIent-he i
admirably proportioned-though large,
, very Mars.
agree with you that "there is nothint
in the world so disagreeable as jealou
| woman," unless it be a pfudish one
Now, some people think it shocking 70
me to waltz with Mortimer, but | smil
L. at their old.fashioned notions, and ava,
we whirl! am glad you are learning,