The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1878-02-14


nature-loving heart, and wild, free hab-
its. hated the busy monotony, the
thronged loneliness, the dull whirl OF
city life. / could only console myself
with occasional flights back into my old
rural haunts. From the longest, rough
est tramps l returned refreshed, pre-
pared to endure what l could not cure.
"came out" prematurely and tenn
porarily when l was scarcely fifteen, on
the occasion of large wedding party
wore long dress and white kid gloves
for the first time My hair was curled
Oh the torture of night and the hide
BUSINESS of a day in curled papersl
wore natural flowers and carried huge
bouquet.
Distressingly difident, not to say
awkward. early in the evening retired
to deep window seat, where | remain
Ell watching the merry groups of we'd
ding guests, and listening to their easy
chatter, with childish wonder and de
light.
Among the gayest OF the gay was a
certain far young lady whom l had
known for some time as my double.
Not that she was in the least like me.
She was blonde-very much blonde
while | was a very brunette. She was
distinguished for sumptuousness of at
tire; and dress was not then, any more
than it is now, my besetting sin, or pc
culiar virtue, whichever you incline TO
esteem it. But, oddly enough, this fair
lady bore my name precisely, surname
and baptismal. used to think the cir
cumstance annoyed her, almost as
/ though had stolen the fashion of her
/ Partisan bonnet, or the pattern of her
costly embroidered shawl. Aside from
/ the name there was little in common
between us, certainly no love. At this
party she quite outshone the bride. /
/ found it curious to watch her
Her lightness and brightness did shine with
such splendor-
which was all very proper, she being
rich tallow chandler's daughter.
But not long did watch my double,
for, my dear, at this very party saw
him-my ideal hero-my fairy prince.
From all that goodly company l singled
him out at glance. There were the
dark blue eyes, there was the Greek
profile, the black curly hair, the Byron
peak and all.
Imagine the emotions of your friend
when to her secluded window-seat this
very Young gentleman was brought and
presented as "Mr. John Trevalyan."
If it wasn't just TrevalyaA, it was quite
as respectable a name. The John III
stand by.
Wen, he stood by me and talked to
me for bright, wondrous half hour,
precisely as though I had. been full
grown belle; and 1, under the spell of
his pleasant fiattery, fell in with the lit
tie make-belief, and chatted away, quite
at ease, and said some things that were
really not so bad. Yet, when | spoke,
it seemed to me it was some one else
talking in second double. Ny very
voice had an unfamiliar sound.
MIR. Trevalyan talked of poetry, art,
music, and flowers, in a low, sweet, be-
quilting, 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 | shared /
his aesthetic preference. | suppose, if 1
/ had been properly trained, or a year
or two older, | might have answered: /
q am enraptured with music-Bee-
thoven, Mozart, Henry Russell, and the .
Seguins; | dearly love art-Titian, /
Michael Angelo, and Benjamin West;
but l 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-just
horses! l suppose it's perverse and i'm
proper, and all that; but do know
something about horses, and / love
them"
My hero smiled, in a beaming, indul-
gent way, and declared that he partici- /
pated in my enthusiasm-that his love |
for horses amounted to quite passion,
and that he fattered himself he owned /
the fastest trotterin all that region.
All! al that moment, to quote from .
dear Miss Bremen, " our souls met.
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, mysteri- .
Gus shade of sadness over his brow-an .
interesting, Lara-hke frown that came
and went in that festive hour. OWNED .
that, young as l 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
very satisfactory shape.
did not know just when to look for
my admirer, but | was ready for him
morning and evening. grew strangely
careful of my dress. l assiduously brush
ed and curled my hair. applied cos
metics to my sun-burnt face. slept in
kid gloves.
These alarming symptoms were not
by my tender mother; but she
noticed that my manner had grown quiet
and maidenly, and took great comfort
thereat.
Six days 1 waited in vain. The
seventh-magic number! brought-not /
him, but letter. 1t was dainty-loCk-
ing missive, all rose-tinted and gilt
edged. This was before the time of en-
remote age bordering on the
" Drift Period" you may think, in the
insolence of your nineteen summers.
1t was directed-this letter of letters
in one of those rearing Italian hands 4
once so fashionable. 1t was sealed with .
ilac-colored wax, and the seal bore the
motto-how well remember it, though .
| didn't in the least know what it meant .
r = Il