Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1875-02-17

ly than tie possible generosity of a
future son-in-l law.
As we went in to dinner Julia. whis-
pered to me: cts all right. Papa's 50
good. .l...... s..s.. -.
"I am very glad" said, and was
amused to see the virtuous complacency
of papa during dinner. @
Three years later, when l was living
in my very lofty apartments in Paris,
there came letter to me from Julia.
Her father was very i'll. His papers
having been put in order by lawyer,
she assisting in the filing, ETC., she had
for the first time discovered her obllga-
ton to me, and wrote to thank me
'tthus tardily," she said. [ was sur
prised and interested to find the letter
charmingly written, and that of a Guilt
waited woman I begged in my answer
| that she would write again and tell me
of her fathers health. And so we en-
tered into correspondence that grew
to be very intimate.
Mr.. Delaney fingered in an invalid
state, falling at last into imbecility; and
| it was a wear after his death, when my
student life was completed, and l was
ready to return to my country, after an
absence of eight years, that [ found a
strange excitement in the thought OF
seeing Julia; a strange dread, too, lest
this might be the end Of our friendship
| "a deep sense of the necessity that had
grown in me for the companionship OF
this mind. The depth of her thought
surprised me; her spirituality elevated
me: J. learned from her while she was
unconscious of it; / consulted her on Sc
rious matters; her taste and intuition
seemed to me infallible; and all the
while she thought herself in my debt
because recommended the reading OF
a few books, whose names she could
have easily found in any library cata-
logue.
When I landed in New York late in
June, finding everybody out OF town, l
wandered disconsolately about the
| streets, given over to the vendors OF old
hats and Strawberries, putting off the
| hour when should take the train for
| B.
realized that there must be change
in my relation with Julia-that the
| purely intellectual companionship pos
sible IN a correspondence kept up at a
distance must, in the shock Of meeting,
be either quite overthrown, or turn to
| an emotional affection. The first /
| could not face; the last seemed possible.
| The image Of Julia, too plump, with a
white dress fastened at the back, her
chestnut hair, wild and curly, falling on
her neck and about her blushing round
face, laughing, shielding her bushes
with her plump hands-constantly rose
to my mind. 1t was pretty enough. 1t
was not at all my ideal. I returned to my
hotel and read half dozen of her last
letters. Yes, this was the woman who
could be my companion and helpmeet,
who would expect of me my highes-
self, and give me tender and compret
hensive love-if she gave me any, [
paused. She was not a woman to be
lightly won-this woman of the letters.
Suppose she cast me off, and | went all
my life missing what [ had almost
known. She might not like me when
she saw me. I might have dozen
rivals She had never mentioned any
one to me in this connection. Yet we
had written of love abstractly, of friend
ship, of marriage. Her ideal was a
high one.
I would not go; I would write. It
was easier to write than begin new re-
lation viva voce. l passed three more
disconsolate days awaiting her answer,
| and the little note in my pocket was all
that came. at
The delays of the train I was in
caused me much anxiety, as it was to
connect with the last one, that evening,
| to B. The conductor repeatedly
assured me that it was call right" but
I found it was all wrong by the space OF
three minutes when I aiglated at the
station, and there was nothing to do
but to put up at a hotel for the night.
It was a hotel much frequented by
summer visitors on account OF it's Vi
cinity to many attractive places, easily
reached by parties of pleasure, to which
end the roads were strewn with mile
stones and sign-posts, which were an
aggravation to behold, especially the
one setting forth that it was forty miles
to B. Perhaps I could get a
horse to take me there. I insinuated
as much to the keeper Of the hotel, but
he informed me that there wasn't a
horse left in the village, as large party
had taken advantage of the full moon
to visit and keep within sound Of re-
markable waterfall.
The piazza and cigar proved no con-
ISOLATION in my restless frame Of mind. /
took my newspaper into the parlor to
read it by the usual kerosene lamp,
which stood on the usual worsted mat
and mar1lle topped table. The identi-
cal cheap engravings, common to all
country inns Of my native land, stared
Familiarity at me from the white walls;
the horse-hair sofa stood uncomfortably
in the corner, and certain ferrotypes
and photographs Of people with an I'M
due proportion of viands adorned the
mantel-piece.
The paper had nothing in it. l took
out the note. The words had ceased
to have any meaning to me. I went to
the window that looked out upon the
piazza, attracted by heavy footsteps.
They were those Of an old lady who
tramped in the moonlight YEARLY, drag