Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1867-03-23

He understood by her manner that
il was time to go, and took his leave.
That night he walked over to Judge
Minturn's. Amy was just as pretty as
ever,--just as graceful and gentle and
faultless in dress and manner. Why
was it that he could not interest him.
self in her as heretofore? Had the salt
lost It's SAVIOR? His Judgment endorsed
her as it always had. She was precise
ly the kind of woman TO make man
happy. That pure blonde beauty, with
its tints of pearl and pink, was just
what he wanted, always had wanted
Why was it that be was haunted all the
time by eyes so different from those
calm blue orbs of Amy's? He thought
il was because his new patients case
had interested him 50 much in medI-
cal point of view. He was tired, and
he made it an excuse for shortening his
call.
He went home to ait and smoke and
speculate again about Miss Colchester.
He seemed to see her wonderful exotic
face through the blue smoke-wreaths.
Her words and ways came back to him.
He had discovered so soon that she was
no gentle, yielding Great re. She had
power enough to make her conspicuous
auywhere-piquant moods and man
ners of her own, which man would
find it hard TO tame. He was glad,--or
thought he was, that such Office had
not fallen TO his share, that the wo-
man he had resolved to marry was so
unlike her; yet he could not Danish the
imperious lace which haunted his
fancy.
The next day found him again at
Rock Cottage; but he waited until Of
ternoon, when all his other visits had
been made. Ii was a warm day; and
Miss Colchester was again in white, but
in full fleecy robes. whose effect was
very different from the simple cambria
wrapper she had worn the day before.
Ornaments of barbaric gold were in her
ears. at her throat, and manacled her
wrists. A single scarlet lily dropped
low In her hair. She locked full of life,
strong, passionate, magnetic life
Was it possible that he had judged her
case Alright? Could death come to
spoil this wonderful beauty in its
prime?
Their talk was not like that of ply
stefan and patient. 1t touched on many
themes, and she illuminated each one
with the quick brilliancy of her thought.
He grew acquainted with her mind in
two hours he spent with her; but her
history,-who she was,-whence she
came,-why she was at Windham, -
remained as mysterious as before. Her
maid came in once or twice, and called
her ''Miss Pauline" and this one item
of her first lame was all that he knew
about her more than he had discovered
Yesterday. He saw her, "a woman ut
terly different from the gentle, COM
municative, impossible, blue-eyed ideal
he had always cherished, "a woman
with whom, had she been in her full
health, his reason would have promo.
unced it madness to fall in love. How
much more would it be madness now,
when he knew that she was going
straight to her doom,-that when the
summer came again, it would shine
upon her gravel And yet it seemed as
Il the very hopelessness of his passion
for her made her power over him more
fatal.
He went to see her day after day. -
He did not consciously negect Amy
Minturn, because he did not think
about her at all. She was no more to
him in those days than last years roses,
which had smelled so sweet to him in
their prime. He was absorbed in Paul.
inc Colchester--lived in her life. She
accepted his devotion, simply because
she did not understand 1T. If she had
been in health, she would have known
that this man loved her; but the knowl-
edge of her coming fate must make all
that impossible, she thought. So she
accepted his friendship with feeling
of entire security; and, though she re-
Vealed TO him no facts of her material
life, admitted him to such close init
macy with her heart aud soul as, under
other circumstances, he might never
have reached in a lifetime of acquaint-
ance.
And the nearer he drew so her the
more insanely he loved her, loved her,
though he knew the fate which waited
for her, the heart-break he was prepar-
ing for himself.
At last he told her. He had meant
to keep his secret until she died, but
in spite of himself it came to his lips.
In September it wes,-one of those
glorious autumn days when the year
seems at dood-tide, full of ripe glory,
which thrills an imaginative tempera.
ment as does no tender verduTe of
/ spring, no bravery of summer. Paul
inc Colchester, sensitive to all such in
huences as few are, was electrified by
it. DR.. Huger had never seen her so
radiant, so full of vitality, 1t seemed
to him impossible that she should die.
If he had her for his own, -if he could
make her happy, he not guard
her from every shock or excitement,
and keep her in such charmed at
mosphere of peace that the worn. out
heart might last for many year.
1t was the idlest OF lovers dreams,
the emptiest and most baseiess of hopes,
which he would have called any other
man insane for cherishing. But he
grasped at it eagerly, and, before he
knew what he was doing, he had breath
ed out his longing at the feet of Miss
Colchester.
"ls 1t possible" she said, after a ST.
lent space, shat you could have loved
me SO well? That you would have abb
sorbed into your own the poor remnant
of my life, and cherished it to the end?
] ought to be sorry for your sake; but
how can /, when just such love is
what i have starved for all my life? I
have no right to it now. / am Mrs.
not Miss, Colchester. 1 was Pauline
Angereau before Ralph Colchester
found me and married me. / had
money and, / suppose, beauty; perhaps
he coveted them both. He made me
believe that he loved me with all his
heart: and then. when Was once his