Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1873-10-10

AM an old bathelof At si&ty-ive ]
can say shall never be anything else
but, like all other men-all l have ever
met at least-I have loved, and hoped to
be happy with my chosen bride
That passion and those hopes faded
forty years ago. Since then have done
penance for the hasty act Of one night. I
have shtinned the society of women, and
forbade myself tile shadow Of hope that
| might patch my shattered joys with new
ones.
At the age of twenty-four l was clerk
in the establishment of Messrs. Carp &
Cavili lawyers, had energy and ambi-
ton, health and opportunity ity-evetythihg,
in fact, that could be wished for by a man
who hoped to fight his way up in the
World and win Wealth and feputation
l was engaged to Grace Hunter, d
pretty, delicate creature, so quiet that her
pet name, Snowflake, seemed to be the
only one suitable for her. Her step was
tOls6l9ss; her movements soft, her voice
mellow and low She never herself en-
tertained a large company by her CONVEX
sation, nor did any one Of those things
th8t give woman reputation for bril-
liancy; but her mental powers were very
fine, and in a teted-tete she was enchant-
ing. A lady to the hearts core; in my
eyes, at least, perfect beauty, she might
have been forgotten in a roomful Of gig
Cling, chattering girls,
I aGofed her. | had felt that her love
was a jewel worthy of an emperor's
wearing, and | scarcely dared to utter the
words that told her all | felt. Even now
her high bred reserve kept me at dis
tance. / was proud of her. l felt un-
worthy of her She was at once the saint
whom | revered; and the being whom it
was to be my delight TO cherish and pro-
tGCt until death should part tis.
Six months had passed since she had
promised to be mine. At the end Of six
more she was to give me her hand. | had
q small salary, but my grandmother had
left me a legacy which would enable me
to go to housekeeping in plain but COM
Portable style, and Grace was willing to
fight life's battles by my side.
Life seemed bright and joyous to me on
that night of mild winter, forty years
ago, when walked through the streets
With Grace upon my arm, and looking
down at her in her white wrappings, with
CLEANS of frosty starlight touching her
black hair, wondered if the angels were
fairer than she.
We were going to spend the evening at
o mutual friends residence There was
to be music and dancing and cards, and a
s0ciable slipper. | went because Grace
desired to go.
talked; / sang; l turned the music
for musical ladies; walked through the
Lancers AT last l found myself flirting
with one of the female guests.
There are women a man is obliged to
firt with He does not admire them, re-
spect them, or love them one whit; he
does not even desire their society; but
he must be more than man ere he can re-
fuse to respond to their advances. One of
these women | know now, having played
the locker on for so many years, can
make any man appear to other wo-
men desperately in love with her, while
he almost detestS her. A woman of that
kind was among the company. She had
hands that delighted in soft touches Of
hands masculine; eyes that could cast
glances bright and enhancing. She pos
sessed attraction rather than beauty.
What she said was nothin; her converse
tion had no interest but [ knew that |
seemed absorbed by her-that | rea ~
was absorbed; in two words, that 1 fIrt-
ed abominably with her.
Grace, meanwhile, sat apart from me-
She talked to others in her low, sweet
tones. Once she sang pretty love-song.
Quite calm and selfpossessed, with no
appearance of noticing my conduct, the
thought that it troubled her never oc-
CURED to me. So that when the evening
was over, and we had left the house to-
gether, was astonished beyond measure
to see an offended look upon her face, and
to hear an offended tone in her voice.
offered her my arm. She rejected it, re
plying that the ground was damp, and
that her hands were occupied with her
dress. but knew that this was merely
an excuse; and feeling myself in the
wrong, and having swallowed more wine
than should at the supper-table, grew
very angry.
"May / ask what / have done ?" 1
said.
"You knowr' said Grace.
"I know!" Irepeated. "Nay, [ know
nothing of woman's fancies. You must
explain" ;,
Il scarcely think it worth while" said
she. "If you do not know that you have
done wrong tonight, | really should not
care. You have neglected me, and de
voted yourself to that vulgar woman |
heard a lady near me say that you seemed
to be tired Of your bargain. She thought
that you were in love with that creature,