The south-western. [volume] (Shreveport, La.) 1852-1870, 1859-01-05
Only an Episode e

ne seemed 70 De opening to more earnes
beauty. There was regretfulness in the pres
ent, and longing for sWeeter ful6lment o
the future
Why this was SO, l could not tell. Mr.
Emerson was nothing to me. | did not love
him; l do not know that [ even admired him
J There was little affinity between us. He was
calm, stern, reserved and at times, when he
provoked me by his words or actions, proud
arrogant and presumptive.
He was too deep for me; too deep in learn
ing, and too deep in observation In contrast
with myself, these traits and qualities were
especially prominent I was wild, gddv,
thoughtless; couple with these Incidence and a
dislike TO study, and to the every day actuali-
ties Of life, and you can make fair estimate
of my character.
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 subjected TO individual
ism.
| Mr.. Emerson, on the contrary, was not hand
some. True, he was well formed, and grace
tu IN his movements, but his face had nothing
attractive about it. His lips bespoke too much
determination for me, and there seemed TO be
something SO patronizing about bis smile, that
L liked him less when he smiled. His nose was
large, yet corresponding with an iron mouth,
like his, while his eyes were cold and stern.
rarely softening. They would look into your
face as though it were page of some antigua
| ted volume, only deepening in their color when
true or beautiful sentiment was expressed.
l often thought that hated Emerson. He
was a. sort of shadow resting on my buoyancy.
The cold positive mesmerism of his character
was driving me TO the wall. 1t rcpeed and
it attracted me by turns, and at last | could not
tell whether l liked or hated him very much.
He made no advances of love toward me: he
did not even seem 10 wish to strengthen our
friendship, There was nothing about me for
him to love, except my beauty. And what
was beauty to John Emerson? A wreath of
smoke,a mist,a vapor; be recognized nc beauty
beyond the beauty of The soul.
was sitting listlessly upon the verandah
one evening. had never felt so dissatisfied
with myself in my life, as | did Just then; and
as a consequence, was dissatisfied with every
thing around me. felt peevish and fretful-I
in mood to quarrel with one, but especially
with John Emerson
LIE w DIS SllttDS d 6bOIG UIStdICG from me, with
his chair leaning back against the railing With
him that was afayorte way Of sitting He had
been reading, but as the twilight was deepen
ing, he closed the book and looked over 10
where sat A minute afterward, he drew his
chair nearer to me, and said in bis quiet way,
"What's 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-''
Il would prefer. sir, 10 have you drop the
conversation . interrupted, crustiIy
John Emerson smiled one of those abomina-
BILE, patronizing smiles.
IL do not choose TO drop it, ma BELLE" be
said, quietly
Thank heaven. have an alternative then.
Good evening, sir
l arose, and gathered up my dress to de-
part.
you are not going, Kate! Don't spo your
pretty face with that look of scorn. You must
sit down and hear me out"
'Mustl Did | hear right"
Eyes, must l said it very plainly"
gazed at him with passion; and yethis calm
brown eyes seemed to draw the FIRE out of my /
OHll. DGIOiG MdS tNdIS vi IL, L WIS SltllUD /
down again. l could hardly account for the
fact, and so bit my lip in vexation.
That's right, Kate. knew you wouldn't
go. You anticipated lecture, eh?'
81 do not recognize your right 10 lecture me.
7 ou are nothing to me. l am getting 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 (The pre-
5umptive fellow!) Your love or your hatred is
nothing TO me. Worse still!) As you anticpa-
ed lecture, you shall not be Disappointed |
1ave some unpleasant truths TO tell you
'Unpleasant to you, or 10 me?'
"Unpeasant to both of us, Kate. Do you
now that you are not living up to the gran
leur of your estate; to the ful6Iment of your
Iestiny? Some of your most glorious powers !
re rustng absolutely rusing for the want of :
zercise. This inactivity is warping your soul.
[ou are growing dissatisfied with your own
ndoence. Why don'tyo shake this off? Why
ont yea try and be somebody? to benefit your, :
elf and the world around you? Positively such !
drone as you are should blush from shame" {
lou, in turn, Mr.. Emerson, should blush : :
u your impudence! Your conduct is outrage
us!''
an hoC doHC y GU, N1tC' oul IhuoltuC6 r.
as become The subject of remark, You loll >
round, employing neither your head nor your :
ands You do not even seem to be capable =
any noble emotions; and above all, you are :
ztremely selfish Why, compared with the "
ough-boy now coming wbisLling down the . .
ne, you sink into the most abject picture of 81
ental imbecility"
l sprang to my feet. 1 was very angry. . p
"Mr. EmerSon,p l said, 'tgou can lay no ic
aim, whatever, to the title of gentleman. To je
ch insults will not submit l shall never o.
low repetition of them; and l wish you, ct
.reafter, to address no remarks 10 me, what in
er. l hate you" al
I swept past him-down the steps of the pi
randall. CHANGING furtively back, saw that th
was leaning against one of the pillars, shad- th
g his face with bis hands. tn
At the garden gate I met a little boy. He OF
as the only child of widow lady who lived IL
short distance up the road m
Miss Crawford, " said he, ''can have some 10
wers for map T.
Certainly, child. will help you to gather eli
en- Is your mother sick?'' I'll
eyes ma'am. she is very loaesorne SVor,t in,