The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1880-09-10
NUMBER IA.

her converslng with few moments be-
fore. was satisfied they were. not cog
infant of my close proximity, and was
on the point of speaking to them, when
[ heard my own name pronounced by
the man, and concluded to remain quiet
and learn In what way | was connected
4 with their conversation. had not long
to wait in a moment he spoke again
I ssBut report says you are engaged to
/ Charlie Knight, and his exclusive atten-
tons to you of late are sufficient grounds
for such a rumor. st3 ta
/ Breathlessly I waitedto hear Annie'sI
reply She laughed low, mocking
laugh, and replied 80
Ma g And would you hold me responsible
/ for every absurd rumor that is startedby
| meddling gossips Have / not told you,
only q few moments since, that you are
( the only one I ever loved? As for Char
lie Knight, I will admit that have al
1 lowed him to make a great fool of him
self In his attentions to me, but you
know he bears the name of being first
class firt, and / thought I would teach
him lesson he would not soon forget,
/ for / am satisfied the fellow really does
care for me. But if you object I will
4 bring the Irritation to an end.
| 'E If that is the case, have no obiee-
ton to your continuing it as long as you
like. Knight is a conceited puppy, and
/ deserves just such treatment.
''How I hated that man then You
know self-control is not one of the pecul-
iarities of our family, AID instinctively
my hand sought small pistol, which
| from force of habit I always carried, but
in an instant gained control of myself,
and they walked away and returned to
the room where the company were as
semhled S. ~
LII will not tell you of the sleepless
night / passed, or of the thousand and
one curses [ heaped upon the head of
this woman, whom I considered the de-
stroyer of my happiness. The next
morning wrote short note to Annie,
telling her to forget all had ever said
about loving her, as [ had discovered
that [ was mistaken in surprising that /
ever cared for her. During the day
sought out her companion of the even
ing previous, and accused him of using
my name disparagingly, and when he
denied it I gave him the lie, and fol-
lowed it up with a. storm of cpl
thets and abuse that few men
would care to hear applied to them
selves. Having thus relieved my feel
ings as far as possible, I settled down in
to a gloomy, morose life, forswore wom-
en-, isolated myself from society, and, in
fact, made myself as miserable as posi-
bic, and thus continued until met, by
accident, Ida Severen. She was all an art
lst could paint or poet dream of. A
perfect description of her would be as
impossible as a perfect description of
some dollhouse exotic, whose loneliness
must be seen to be truly appreciated
t'Light and willowy of form, with in
describable grace in every movement
and gesture, complexion fair as lily,
dark hair and eyes, small mouth, with
lips just shade deeper than the Grim
son that tinted her cheeks, and constant
| ly reminding me of two twin rosebuds.
When she spoke they displayed two
rows Of small, even teeth, that we're
pearl-like in their whiteness. Her face
was perfect enough to have served as
model for a sculptor, and in each velvety
cheek were tiny dimples, which seemed
fit hiding places for the god of love.
"All this Inoted on the occasion of our
first meeting, but, as [ became better
acquainted with her, I learned to fully
appreciate the many noble qualities that
composed her nature. Above every
thing else, / had always admired truth
fitness in women, but Ida Severen was
the only woman I had ever met who
would not occasionally tell what in So
ciety is usually termed white lies,
and it was seldom. indeed that she would
attempt to prevaricate on any question. !
And last, but not least of the admira-
bic qualities in her nature, was the gen
tie, lady-like manner that characterized
her conversation and actions on all occa-
sions..i -st-. aef
.ii.''t I visited her frequently and met her
often away from home, and [ learned
that there was much congeniality be-
tween us. She was fond of books, had
read considerable, and possessed the
happy faculty of remembering what she |
read, consequently she could converse
well ON subjects pertaining to literature
for one of her age. We became firm |
friends, and, while I knew I admired |
her beauty and goodness, the idea that |
I loved her never once occurred to me, !
for, like you, considered that to love
once was to love forever, and believed |
that my love had been sacrificed at the
shrine of Annie Everets. The knowl- |
edge that she was dearer than friend
came to me suddenly-ike the bright
rays of sunshine bursting through dark |
cloud after summer shower shower. |
We were together one evening when she |
informed me that she would soon leave |
her native town, perhaps never to re-
turn, and expressed her deep regret at |
being forced to separate from her many |
friends. It was then that knew that l
loved her. It came to me like reyela-
tion-all in moment. thought that |
/ had loved Annie Everets now kpeaO
that I worshiped Ida Severen with pas
sion that would be lifelong in its dura-
ton.
cit had been an easy matter for me to |
tell Annie of my supposed love for her,
but now it was different. trembled to
ask the question, the answer to which
knew must either bring perfect happi-
ness or bitter disappointment. All my
self-assurance left me, and my lips re-
fused to give utterance to the words that
trembled upon them.
"a week passed. miserable week to
me-and again L was with Ida in the
coy little parlor of her home. It was
beautiful Sabbath evening, but all the
beauties of nature were to me as moth
ing, when compared to the exquisite
loneliness Of her sylph-like face and
figure On that evening, for the first
time, I saw her with that wealth of dark,
shining hair unbound, falling in all its
glorious beauty about her graceful
shoulders, and down below her slender
waist. and she seemed to me an angel
who had left for time her celestial
home above to visit this mundane sphere.
AS sat listening to the dulcet tones of
her soft, musical voice, felt that could |
never leave her presence without know
ing my fate. let it be what it might.
Sin voice suppressed by the conflict
ing emotion of hope and fear, told her
Of my love. and, with as much compos-
ure as / could command, awaited her an
swer.
"She was very candid, and told me that.
as she hal always considered me as a