Litchfield enquirer., 1873-07-17

or three vIsitOrS-fOr we were never with out the dreary imitation of sociability, represented by afternoon calls. The con versation seemed, I thought, duller than ever, and was furtively reading 'The Castle of Ofranto." that lay upon my lap. when tZae servant announced new conner. This was relation of whom I had often heard, but never seen, major in the Indian army, lately settled in Eng land. He was 8 bluff, noisy, kind-hearted man, who, having daughter of my own age, for her sake, found all young girls interesting.
 The major only stayed quarter of an hour, but, in that quarter of an hour he had discovered how dull and unwhole- some must be the life was leading, and most likely contrasting 1t with that of his own idolized, feted Theodora, lit was an additional attraction in me that. bore my cousins name,-he would not go till my aunts consented to let me return to his country house with him next day. went away, and from that moment the doors and windows of life were thrown wide open, and my hitherto cramped, starved, imprisoned self began to breathe and be happy.
 The two Theodoras agreed to be each others bosom friends. and they were
 "You are poor and clever, Theo," said my cousin Dora to me, the first day, "and l am rich and dull; we cannot afford to quarrel"
 How could two such young, happy souls quarrel? We had entire liberty, for the seventeen-year-oldD Dora was the head of her fathers household, and We had abun- dance of health, spirits, and those devel- oping tastes which make extreme youth the fresh, joyous, impetuous thing it is.
 Our chief passion was acting. I had been permitted to dress up to sing "Buy 8 Broom" on my birthday, as childish treat, and now threw heart and soul into the private theatricals given at Dora's home. All the pent-up fire of years burst into sudden flame. l knew that, come what might could never stife it, and be other than true to myself again. For no sooner did begin to counterfeit the pas sions of others, than I discovered the na- ture of my own.
 My acting was said to be remarkable. The unambitious dramatic efforts of our little company got noised abroad, and very we were invited to give performances at our neighbors, and in public for all kinds of charitable institutions. My un- cle, only too proud and happy to have his darling praised and hattered, accompan- jed us wherever we went, occasionally talk ing part in drawing-room pieces. He guessed as little as the others how each new triumph swelled the tide of ambitions surging within my bosom. was content to wait, but it was with the resignation that hides opportunity, not the self-com- placency that smiles upon small achieve ments. Thus the summer and autumn passed. and winter came. By this time 1t had become an understood thing that I was to stay always with my soft, blue- eyed, sweet-tempered cousin, who requir- ed nothing of those around her but to be happy. My aunts were not unwilling. The sunshine of prosperity in which basked had sweet and wholesome influence upon them. Their hearts opened in the abundant warmth, and they treated me with tenderness that was new and deli cious. At Christmas we all went to Lon don. The two Theodoras were very popu- lar, and entrusted we'll, the one being small, fair and gentle; the other, tall, gypsy-eyed, and full of enthusiasm. My wider and more critical audience inspired me to renewed efforts.
 Amongst our visitors was Q man whom will call Mir. Wratislaw, his real name having jus. that Slavic sound about it, though he was by birth and education an Englishman. He was very unpopular person in our little circle, and partly be- cause he Was unpopular, and partly be- cause he was sad, pitied him and showed him such frank, outspoken kindness as an unworldly girl will do without thinking, to a man twice her age. Sympathy begets confidence, and we soon became friends. By little and little he told me story ex- actly calculated to turn my compassion into love, and my friendlessness into ad- miration: was calculated, moreover, to kindle into flame those smouldering de- sires which had hitherto only glowed at intervals.
 He was a man of passionate political convictions, for the sake of which he had cut himself off from friends, family ties, and all chances of worldly success. shall make my letter too long if I try to tell his story as he told it to me, but 1t is enough to say that he was deeply impli- cated in those revolutionary movements which burst forth from time to time like volcanic eruptions after the stormy year 1S48. With such watchwords as ''Liberty and the People" he set my heart beating wildly, and I, glorifying the man in the cause, saw in him regenerator, a martyr, hero I did not think of bis worn looks, his spare form, his pale face so seldom a-lit with smile. accepted his cold courtesies with rapture. was ready to toll like slave in his service.
 One evening acted the leading part in brilliant rehearsal given for the sake of the suffering Poles. The play was follow ed by a conversazione-that IS to say, an assembly of fashionably dressed ladies and gentlemen, who were said to be friends and well-wishers of Poland. Among these smiling beauties and fattering cavaliers l felt strangely i'll at ease, and, hiding my self in an obscure corner, wept over the lapful of roses and camelias that had been showered upon me- Mir. Wratislaw found me out, and with bitter voice echoed my own thoughts.
 s.You may we'll weep" he said. ''What a ake-believe is all this Fetes, flow CTS, music and wine, smiles and compli- ments-what have they to do with such a cause as ours? Do not deceive yourself into any belief that you are now acting an heroic part."
 'sYet," he added, after pause, turning to me with a sudden light in his eyes and feryor in his voice, s'YOu might be a no- ble woman, the heroine of thousand he roes p
 s.Help me to something better, broke forth, still weeping. "You are wrong if you think that this life Is my ideal. l am ready to do the best can"
 He looked at me long and scrutinizing y
 ssYou have no craven spirit, know, and you are free. Your uncle has no le- gal control over you. Why should you not give up the common woman's life, and share part and lot with us ?'
 I wiped away my tears, and looked up with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes His cheeks flushed, too, as he went on to make the strangest proposition that was surely ever made to a woman by her lover for need Isay that before making this he had declared his love to me? 'sWhy not consecrate your gift, !" he said passion ately, ''to the grandest cause of modern ages We reformers are mostly men of the people, wanting that wealth without which action on large scale is impossi- ble. The fiery word and the inspired