Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1878-08-01

fDF autographs and found not inffequent
" that my lines had fallen IN the pleas
anisst possible places received . tim
letter. very pIasniy addressed, and bear.
lag TIE Queens head IN the corner.
broke the seal and read with pafdona'
bly, aeitalf0n a kind acknowledgment
o. certain verses which ! had intFustet
70 the r0sl some weeks previous.
She aaid ahat sfe imagined ne nn I'll.
moss s1'issf4 singer IL remote coFnel
uf tie earth: that ake loved 10 think d
me diligently cnIlivnline . Iiltle garden
10 Te<i aesekz; fha< I eeeHe zo have
lIe sz<|If4Ii8n DaI that 81 AzIuz1, which
was the best of all inspirations; that
she hoped would keep my heart pure
and my voice clear, and she begged
that ] would ever remember what thai
marvellous philosopher, Marcus Azure
illus, bad wrItten--she had Just laid
aside the volume Of his thoughts
namely, an instrument that is left un.
strung for season can never again be
kept in tune; and that she was my friend
and well wisher, George Eliot.
Well. by and by I found myself ia
London. No sooner had begun to re.
gain my sclf-possession and TO feel al.
most at home, than ! grew suddenly en-.
thusiastic, and resolved TO learn, If pos.
sible, something concerning the author,
who are the subject of 50 much com.
ment at distance, but who are abso-
luteIy swallowed up m the tumultuous
lie OF an inlmeasurable and inexhausti.
bic city. lhad told a London acquaint.
ance Of my treasured autograph, ihe let
ter above referred to, and was rather
astonished to hear that it would not be
considered indelicate of me to call.
hesitated. ! thought il over fol
three days and three nights, and then
wrote q brief note TO the author o.
"Daniel Deronda" and awaited the re.
suit. An interval OF several days fol
lowed, during which my interest in au.
thoresses increased and diminished.
had about resigned myself to destiny
when the postman's rap seemed TO have
something prophetic in 1t, SO il had. A
small letter was handed me by the beam.
ing landlady--a tiny envelope. quite
like the old one fled away among the
archives of my adolescence; small, run
ming hand, very plain and neat; occas-
ionally line linking two words, where
the tail of the "y" had been spun oul
and woven into the next word without
breaking the thread; or where the cross
Of the ''tv turned back somersauit and
became the first "h'' Of word follow.
ing. Oh here is the letter:
BEack6rook.--My dear sir: Your
note has been forwarded TO me in the
country. We shall not be in town again
for fortnight; but il you are still there
on Sunday, the sixteenth, and will call
at the address which you know, shall
be happy to see you at any time be-
tween $50 and s. / remain sincerely,
yours,
nj. e. LewEs.
Sunday was slow a-coming. Friday,
as Is frequently the case, preceded it.
With Friday came a postal card, to
wit:
The Priory, Friday.-We shall be
glad to see you on Sunday-at least ]
shall be visible, though probably Mrs.
Lewes may not, she being unwell this
week. II you are able to be in town
Sunday week that would be better
time to see Mrs. L. G.. III. L.
OF course ! waited ill Sunday week.
IL was Sunday at the Priory, North
Bank, west end of town. There was a
garden walk of uncommon height, 4
massive gate, closed, as usual. On one
side of the gate, in small letters, was
this legend: "The Priory;" on the 9TH
er side the two bell pulls Tor visitors and
servants. Above the wall the upper
half Of the top windows Of the Priory
were just visible. / rang the visitors
bell and waited. The gate was un-
locked mysteriously. ! heard no foot
step upon the gravel walk within, but
the bolt slid back and the gate swung
partly open through no visible agency.
entered.
AT She farther end ofthe walk. on the
steps before the main entrance to the
Priory, stood maid patiently awaiting
my approach. Green lawns spread
about the dark walls Of house that
looked as If 1t might easily at some ear
lier period have been the abode OF a re-
ligious order. The foliage was not
dense, but sufficient to embellish the
place. There was a noticeable lack OF
s!l superfluons ornamentation. The
Priory was evidently an English home,
the centre of domestic tranquility. The
maid disappeared with my card. / was
left in broad hall, the walls OF hIich
were lined with books mostly stored on
shelves just high enough to be service
able; a few pictures hung above them;
q few terra Gotta casts, miniature repro
ductions ofthe antique, graced the apart
ment.
Enter the professor, slender. nerv-
Gus, scholarIy-locking gentleman who
greeted me as cordially as if had been
an old friend of the family. He led me
at once into the long drawing-room. al
that moment occupied by the hostess
and one guest. "My DEAR" said the
author Of "The History OF Philosophy, =
. life Of Goethe" ''Ranthorp," Sc,
..herc is Mr.. Stoddard r. was Led tC
an old-fashioned sofa that stood at one
end of the room, some distance from
the wall. My hand was held for . mo
ment by lady in the plaiHest possible
attire. who is thus vaguely described ia
Routledge's Men OF the Tines -
George Eliot. said to be the daughter
Of . clergyman, born about 1870.
Somewhat 10 my surprise / found hel
intensely feminine. Her slight figure