The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1877-01-11

helped to the sofa, where my little
spralns were seen to, and the pain soon
forgotten.
"Recollect I was but 10, and such at
tentions were quite new to me. I think,
then, [ may be excused for listening the
next day with futtering pulses to voice
that heard through the open window,
inquiring after my health; then feeling
something very near akin to pain as I
heard the retiring footsteps while when
mamma took from the servant card
and read aloud, Capt. Hansleigh, Ray
park Barracks a vivid blush over
spread my cheeks, only to deepen as I
caught her searching gaze and heard
her sigh.
| 81 know now how foolish I was to let
my weak young heart go forth to the
first fowler that laid for it his snares,
but was innocent and unskilled then.
was but girl in ways and thoughts.
and the brave, handsome young officer,
who had been in India, and bore scar
upon his forehead, made the poor, weak
heart beat whenever he approached.
For what was WAS my argument
that this man, who could pick and choose
in society, should be ever coming over
to our cottage to seek me QUITE
"Then was, as / said, but young and
vain, and in few short weeks Julia was
almost forgotten in this new, strange,
wondrous feeling of love-"
Mr.. Oranges head went down upon
his hand, but I hardly noticed it as T
proceeded, wound up now by strange
desire to tell him all. even though my
heart was torn by the old recollections
| that were SO vivid as I recalled them
from the past.
"Capt. Hansleigh was constantly call
| ing. His manner won mamma to his
side, and at last he told her that be was
but poor officer who loved his profess
sion and hoped to rise, as he begged her
leave to tell me how he loved me.
How he loved me He had already
told me score of times, and I, weak
child, believed and loved again with all
| my heart, sitting day after day book in
hand, pretending to read, but under
standing never word, as [ listened at
the open window for the easy, careless
step on the gravel beneath the vine clad
verandah, till he came by in his easy,
nonchalant way, perhaps pretending not
to see me as he passed on toward the
door.
g used to think afterward that what
befell me was punishment for my self
ish happiness. For I was happy then,
listening to the music Of his words,
while we wandered along the cliff. The
sea with it's rich, deep undertones
seemed to sing of endless love and joy;
there was music in the very air, sweet
music that filed my heart with delight,
and was blind to all else but the one
belief that I breathed in thankfulness
with my prayers from my knees at night,
again as my eyes Enclosed to the bright
morning, and felt ever beating in every
throb oil my pulses He loves me he
loves me he loves me
"Three months fed like magic, and
still my dream was unbroken. He had
left me with my kisses wet upon his lips,
as he won from me my confession that I
would be his and his alone-that I loved
him with ali my heart-and then I had,
in the sorrow of my parting, gone down
upon my knees, to thank God for giving
me the love of that great, strong, brave
man.
His regiment was called away to an
other part, but he had said that he would
be always near in thought, and had
questioned me about our family and
papa, who had died so suddenly; though
l did not'think it strange then, and the
recollection of it all did not come to me
till long afterward.
His headquarters were two hundred
miles away; but letters would constant
~ be passing to and fro, and as soon as
the bitterness of the parting was over I
began to look forward to our next meet
ing, and to write down my loving
thoughts besides which, I felt how
neglectful I had of late been toward
mamma and my ordinary duties. I re-
doubled then my efforts, and in these
busy occupations the time glided on.
81 wrote almost daily, covering page
after page with my fond happiness.
feeling disappointed that the replies
were few and short, but reading the
words and investing them with rainbow
hues, as / treasured each expression of
fondness, and excused him on the score
OF his military duties. and besides,
/ said, 'men never write as woman
does it is not right they should.
"It was long before distrust crept into
the heart so full of love. There was
no room for other than loyal thoughts.
Letters grew fewer and more brief, but
there were always excuses ready, and
wrote to him the more. But at last
constant sapping began to undermine,
and though fought long and hard, till
my cheek was sunken and pale with
sieepless nights, distrust and doubt car
ried the citadel one day, when I had
written many letters in month and
only had one brief reply, telling me in
an answer to my agonized inquiries that
he was quite well, but busy. Those two
enemies to my peace carried the citadel
at last, for the question now in my mind
was, Does he love me?'