The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1858-12-28

ONLY AN EPISODE.

opening to a more earnest beauty. There
was a regretfuness for that which was
past, a restlcssncss in the present, and a
longing for swceter fulflment Of the
future.
Why this was so, could not tell. Mr..
Emerson was nothing to me. did not
love him; l do not know that | even ad
mired him. There was little affinity be.
tween us. He was calm, stern, reserved,
and at times, when he provoked me by his
words or actions, proud, arrogant, and pre-
sumptive.
Hc was too deep for me; too deep in
learning, and too deep in ohscrvation. In
contrast with myself, these traits and dual.
tiles were especially prominent. | was
wild, giddy, thoughtless; coupled with
these, Incidence, dislike to study, and to
the every day actuaitics of life. and YOU
can make fair estimate OF nv character.
l knew that | was beautiful; but am
happy to say that, with this consciousness
there was no vanity. My beauty was of
peculiar style; fresh, piquant, consisting of
combination, or at least beauty not to be
SuDlectcu W IuulfluudllStn.
Mr.. Emerson, on the contrary, was not
handsome. True, he was well formed and
graceful in his movements, but his face had
nothing attractive about it. His lips be-
spoke too much determination for nae, and
there seemed to be something so patron.
izing about his smile, that liked him less
when he smiled. His nose was LARGO, vet
corresponding with an iron mouth, like his
while his eyes were cold and stern, rarely
softenipg. They would look into your face
as though it were a page of some antigua
ted volume, only deepening in their color
when true or beautiful sentiment was cx-
pressed.
often thought l hated Emerson. He
was sort of shadow resting on my buoy
ancy. The cold, positive mesmerism Of his
character was driving me to the wall. 1t
repelled and attracted me by turns, and at
last ! could not toll whether | loved or
hated him very much. lie made no ad.
vances of love toward me; he did not even
seem to wish to strengthen our friendship.
There was nothing about me for him to
love, except my beauty. And what was
beauty to John Emersonf A wreath of
smoke, mist, vapor: he recognized no
beauty beyond the beauty of the sonl.
I was sitting listlessly upon the veran-
dah one evening. / had never felt so dis.
satisfied with myself in my life, as I did
just then; and rs consequence, l was dis
satisfied with everything around me. /
felt peevish and fretful-in mood TO quar-
rel with any one, but especially with John
Emerson.
He was sitting short distance from me-,
with his chair leaning back against the rail
ing. With him that was favorite way of
sitting. He had heen reading, but as the
twilight was deepening, ho closed the book
and looked over to where l sat. A min
ute aftcrward, he drew his chair nearer TO
me, and said, in his quiet way.
whats the matter, Kate? You seem
sad; nay, what is worse, discontented.-
You are in no mood to appreciate yonder
beautiful sunset. Look! let some Of its
gorgeousness drop into your love and
4 would prefer, sir, to have you drop tho
conversation interrupted, crusty.
John Emerson smiled one Of those abom-
Unable, patronizing smiles.
Il do not choose TO drop it, ma BELLE
he said quietly.
Thank Heaven, I have an alternative,
then. Good evening, SIR
You are not going, Kate! Don't spoil
your pretty face with that lcok of scorn.-
You must sit down and hear me out
Must! Did I hear righti
Yes, must! said it very plainly
Igazcd at him with passion and yet his
calm, brown eyes seemed to draw the fire
out Of my own. Before l was aware Of it,
was sitting down again. could hardly
account for the fact, and SO l bit my lip in
vexation.
That's right, Kate l knew you wouldn't
60. You anticipated lecture, chr
Il do not recognise your right to lecture
me. You are nothing to me. l am get
ting to hate you more and more, every day.
'Oh, no; you don't hate me one bit, Kate
Besides, / wouldn't care if you did, (Pre
sumptive fellowD Your love or hatred is
nothing to mo. Worse still y As you an
tiSipatSu o IcSeuiSJ 1Ou eudii uOS w uioap
pointed. l have some unpleasant truths to
tell YOU
Unpleasant 10 you, or to meT
Unpleasant TO both Of us, Kate. Do
You know that you are not living up to the
grandeur Of your estate; TO the fulfilm4nt
of your destinyl Some Of your most glo-
rious powers are rusting, absolutely rusting
for the want of exercise. This Inactivity is
warpipg your soul. You are growing dis
satisfied with your own Incidence. Why
dor't you shake this off Why don't You
try to be somebody TO benefit yourself and
the world around you? Positively, such a
dronc as you are should blush from shame
you, inturn, Mr.. Emerson, should blush
for your impudcncc. Your conduct is out
rageousP
4 am not dono yet, Kate. Your indo-
lence has become the subject Of remark
You loll around, employing neither your
head nor your hands. You do not seem
to be capable Of any noble emotions; and
above all you are extremely selfish. Why
compared with the plough boy now coming
whistling down the lane, you sink into the
most abject picture Of imbecility.'
sprapg to my feet. ] was very angry.