The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1877-06-28

be best for me to live elsewhere, as he
would require the whole house, he in
sisted that | should remain with him.
"' There is plenty of room in the old
house, said he. 1t has been your home
it will be your own some day. You
have lived here as my ward, and, since
that relationship has ceased, l beg you
will remain as my guest
"'It was thus that came to know her.
You never saw her, believe, so | must
try to describe her. She was tall, but
not slender, and very graceful. Her
face would have been ordinary, if it had
not been for her eyes and teeth. Her
teeth were perfect, and her eyes were
the only human ones / ever saw that
were as beautiful as those of seal.
They were large and dark, and, as some
one said of George Sands eyes, you
could battle in them. But the soul of
the woman, as found when came to
know her, was fathomless. She was re-
served and even cold to mere acquaint-
ances, but to those whom she honored
with the name of friend, there was an
infinite womanly tenderness, that was
irresistibly charming. She was talented
and witty, well-read and apt of thought,
but that was not all. Underlying her
whole character was some wonderful
power of fascination which defied
analysis, but which was unmistakable
But if should talk of her all day and
all night, and l could, without firing, l
could never describe her.
"You perceive at once that I loved
her. | don't know how it began, but
gradually came under the influence of
her fascination, and, before knew it, !
was deeply in love. She had seen that
l was irregular in my habits, and, with
the true womanly instinct, had exerted
herself to make home attractive to me.
and she had succeeded so well that l
had become involved in ruinous pas
sion, more fatal than my dissipation,
1t was some time before | realized the
truth, and when l did was horror
stricken. would not, for the world,
have betrayed my unhappy secret, either
to her or to my uncle. There was only
one thing to do. 1 resolved to over
come my love.
Have you ever tried that little ex-
pertinent? 1t is an interesting one. To
conquer love by will-power is about as
easy as to stop the moon with a pair of
bellows. I tried it faithfully, and I
know. Just as / was about despairing,
and had concluded that my only safety
was in flight, made discovery.
g could never make it clear to you
how single glance of hers should show
me that she loved me, but it did. We
were sitting at dinner one evening, and,
in reply to some commonplace remark,
she looked at me. 1t was only glance,
as said, but her chances were some
times volumes. On the instant [ saw
how criminal had been in remaining
so long under my uncle's roof. God
knows had not dreamed of danger to
any one but myself; but the mischief
was done. | had supposed that she
loved my uncle, and to this day do not
know why she married him. But why
ever it was, she learned her mistake too
late. My uncle saw the look, and I'M
derstood it, too, although his rough face
was as impassive as ever, and he appar-
emily took no notice of it.
I" arose few minutes afterward,
feeling that I could not control myself,
but as l was about to leave the room, he
said, calmly:
"'Harry, will you come to my study
tonight when you come home? / want
to speak with you about difficult case
Certainly replied; but fear
shall be out late.'
"'It does not matter he said, shall
be reading nearly all night
T L.
of emotion that made me physically diz-
zy, and, scarcely knowing what l did,
walked dozen miles beyond the limits
of the town.
"My self-reproach at first was keen,
but as | walked and thought, failed to
find the memory of single word or
look of mine that was dishonorable.
had sinned unwittingly, and, after re-
viewing the matter carefully, my con-
science acquitted me. l did not argue
about the future. There was no chance.
The only thing to do was to fly immedi-
ately, though knew it would be worse
than death to go, as go must, without
seeing Margaret again.
Faint and sick with pain, returned
to the house long after midnight. There
was no light in the parlor, and l knew
that my uncle was probably the only
one of the household who was still
awake. His study was an addition built
on to the house in such way as to Sc
cure perfect quiet i'll it. No sound from
the main building could reach it. 1
passed through the long hall, and,
knocking at the door, was hidden to en-
| ter
He was sitting by his table, looking
into the fire. / sat down near him and
waited for him to speak. There was
long silence, which he broke at length