The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1876-09-07
KNOWN AT LAST.
BY PHILIP ROURKE MARsToN.
From lIarper's Bazaar.

from llnrper'S Bazaar.
:, June night such Il June night
warm. blue, and breathlcss, and moon
lit.
| am sitting alone in the Gear old
London garden, and the canal which
runs by the end of it, sivercd by moon
light occasionally darkened by the
shadow of passing barge, looks quite
so and Italian.
Papa has had few gentlemen to din
ner, and till they are satisfied with wine
and politics, prefer the garden to the
drawing room-the garden full of moon
light and the searching scent of the
thorn. | am not long, however, to enjoy
my solitude, for here is a step close by
me, and glimmer of cigar.
"Ah! Miss FALSELY Z" says u low
musical voice with which | am very IA
miliar.
-" Did you take me for ghost ?"
said laughing.
Hardly. | never yet heard of n
ghost wearing flowers. LETT the dining
room before the Others because | wished
to have a few minutes serious talk with
you"
"Oh, don't be Serious" / cry, p;teous-
ly, and making wry face.
"Oh, put by jesting," he rejoins, in
rather Il weary tone of voice after this
shall make no further exactions upon
your time or mood"
My vanity is wounded, and ! say,
sharply, " can be as grave as the most
of people when the occasion requires it ;
but there are persons who mistake mo-
roscness for gravity and good spirits for
heartlessness."
Worry likely" he goes on, hardly
needing my sally; "but | have not come
to defend my own conduct, but rather to
plead for another. | am going-I am
going TO speak about my young friend
Hamilton. Look here, Rhoda FALSELY,
you may hirt with ninety-ninc men and,
though it may hurt your vanity to hear
it, do them no lasting harm; but with
the hundredth it may be different; you
may at last drive him to madness or per:
clifton. Hamilton is one of the finest
young fellows that ever lived"
can excellent young man, doubtless" !"
! put in, with something of a snecr
Not noticing the interruption: He
is, | know, not generally attractive to
women, From boy he has been physi-
cally very delicate his nature is high
strung and nervous. Now you know he
loves you"
Indeed, you hattcr me-" | say, look
ing down to hide a blush, which fancy
(though | know really it is not visible in
the darkness) can not escape his gray,
penetrating eyes.
But he says, quietly, "You can not
evade me; you know he does Now
what will have from you is this: How
will you answer when he puts to you the
supreme question Of his life? Silent
But | demand an answer"
" And | command you to desist from
your present impertinence, and to leave
me" | cry, springing up in a passion,
and flinging far from me the rose with
which | had been toying; "and if you
are a delegate from your friend, he has
indeed been unfortunate"
" Ne, upon my honor am not that, "
he rejoins, earnestly. Then he stands
aside and bows gravely as | sweep
past.
! hasten 70 the drawing-rOOm, and
soon the gentlemen come in. William
Hamilton comes over to where | am sit
ting: He is certainly handsome, though
not In way attractive to us women
tall and slight, with an aristocratic, mo-
bile, though somewhat feminine face, lit
up by large, soft, melancholy eyes; his
hands, beautifully fashioned, are thin al,
most to transparency. He leanswith his
arm on the back of my chair and begins
talking about some book he has given
me. To all his questions | reply with
warmth and animation. Colonel GordoI
Is observing us; his face always bright
ems when he hears me talking less frivO'
iously than is my wont. cannot help
contrasting the two friends; the younger
and so much the younger, too-.so fail
and fragile; the elder, certainly not al
all handsome, but strong of limb and
eroad OF chest, with the dark resolutt
lace, worn and beaten by the stormwind
OF the world, | think I make mysel