The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1878-03-07
w. H. SCANLAND, Pronr;etor.
BELLEVUE La, THURSDAY, MARCH Z 1875

tie make-belief, and chatted away, quite
at ease, and said some things that were
really not so bad. Yet, when I spoke,
1t seemed to me it was some one else
talking in second double. My very
voice had an unfamiliar sound.
MIR. Trevalyan talked of poetry, art,
music, and flowers, in low, sweet, be-
guiling, particular way, after the man
ner of his kind. He said, of all the fine
arts, his enthusiasm was decidedly for
sculpture, $50 cold, so pure, so exalt-
ed, and he begged to know if I shared
his aesthetic preference. I suppose, if
| had been properly trained, or a year
or two older, 1 light have answered !:
81 am enraptured with music-Bee-
thoven, Mozart, Henry Russell, and the
Seguins; l dearly love art-Titian,
Michael Angelo, and Benjamin West;
but | adore poetry-Milton, Byron, and
N. p Willis"
As it was, with a desperately honest
impulse, | replied:
81 admire art and music, poetry, and
all such things, but don't know much
about them yet. To tell the plain truth,
my particular enthusiasm is-iust
horses! suppose it's perverse and inn
proper, and all that; but do know
something about horses, and | love
them.n
My hero smiled, in beaping, indul-
gent way, and declared that he partici-
pated in my enthusiasm-tha his love
for horses amounted to quite passion,
and that he fattered himself he owned
the fastest trotter in all that region.
All! at that moment, to quote from
dear Miss Bremen, {" our souls metz
Mysterious sympathy of passionate
young hearts!
His eyes, upon a nearer view, were
gray, but their expression was full of
poetic sensibility. They beamed with
that tender Difference, half wistful, half
wicked, hardest of all looks for even
little women - to resist. Isuspect the
fellow knew it. They all do.
There was, now and then, a mysteri-
Gus shade of sadness over his brow-an
interesting, Lara-like frown that came
and went in that festive hour. Idivined
that, young as was, he had had great
thoughts and ambitions, great sorrows
and sins, or meant to have them, which
was all the same.
AT parting, he begged from my bou-
quet a sprig of geranium, which he
placed in his button-hole /" for remem-
brance." Then he asked leave to visit
me, which / graciously accorded. Then
we murmured our adieux.
went home with my head among the
stars. My dear, absurd as it may seem,
l really believed had that night met my
destiny, and met it, on the whole, in a
very satisfactory shape.
did not know just when to look for
my admirer, but 1 was ready for him
morning and evening. l grew strangely
careful of my dress assiduously brush
ed and curled my hair. I Iapplied cos
meties to my sun-burnt face. slept in
kid gloves.
These alarming symptoms were not
unnoticed by my tender mother; but she
noticed that my manner had grown quiet
and maidenly, and took great comfor,
thereat.
Six days I waited in vain. The
seventh-magic number! brought-not
him, but letter. 1t was dainty-look-
ing missiye, all rose-tinted and gilt
edged. This was before the time of en-
velopes-a remote age bordering ON the
Drift .Period,'' you may think, in the
insolenee of your nineteen summers.
It was directed-this letter of letters
in one of those rearing italian hands
once so fashionable. 1t was sealed with
oyd ho coal h.
motto how well / remember it, though
l didn't in the least know what it meant
then--of "Toujours fleIe.''
With my heart beating into my fin
ger-tips broke the seal-I opened the
letter. The very first line was some
thing startling, unequivocal: g My dear
est Love!"
Without waiting to read another word,
/ turned the leaf to look at the sigma.
ture: "Oh, my prophetic souli'' il
was g John Trevalyan!''
/ made no copy of that letter, and
find memory has been a little unfaithful
in regard to the exact wording. Iknoy
that / read it with great satisfaction
especial, a lover-like inventory which il
contained of my most amiable and ad.
mirable characteristics. There were
things set down there that [ had sup.
posed known only to myself.
Toward its close the letter, assumed 9
practical tone. 81 will, with. youl
leave" tran, cali on your father in g
day or two. In the meantime, love
perhaps you had better confde our deal
secret to no one, unless it be your broth
er Tom. y
All, heavens! the letter was. not fol
me! Alas! | had no ssbrother Tom. ,
Providence had been bountiful in SOM
to our house. Our cup had run oyel
with that ,larticl,lar so,-+ of hiassino b,14