Litchfield enquirer., 1881-02-24

| It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her where erfather was living, and why she was always travelling alone in my eager curiosity the question had nearly escaped me. 1T But I was silent, and to my great surprise she ap- peared to reply to my thoughts, as though il had been easy to read them for herself. :" .
 "A father very much engaged compels me to rely upon my own resources great deal and 1 an fond of travelling about and study l ing human nature. It is my profession, ip fact. .,> ........,,f.,., s,,,.,st. ie,.r, af !
 s.You write ?" "s'' ',.l ''' ''''.'''' '''' =.
 "A little-for living. And you, :" she ad ' ded, regarding me- very steadily, Fsunless am greatly mistaken, are one of the grand army of letters also?" .,. .,...., ,l,,f,,,,q ..,ffeaa 7a".No, Madame; I do not write" e',,''7s ,,e ] I 1s''Ah!alyou are modest and conceal the l truth" she said, snliiing.n nontto2 sB"
 q am only dreamer, they tell me at home, ? answered, land have come to England to I dream on. have no wish to join the Eteyati j-evenIif I had the ability to turn my pen to proft-I am neither noyelists dramatist, ,lnol poet 5s Nor poet. sne repeated to herself
 "Oniy asidreamer, Madaiaet T had s hope ane day to say. philosopher, but that jisfdying out. " if..n s.. s1:'As fast as other dreams-ahl dreams hl'h, they soon s,s |
 She did not say any mere; it seemed almost as if she had turned from me, disappointed that her estimate of me, had been incorrect 1 was only one of the crowd that she had taken so much pains to avoid, and there was no sympathy between. us. This was clever 1 wonan, and 1 was 8 weak fool. l had said to much, and let fer see how shallow was, and she did not care for my boys philoso- phy. .ofst un, ail catflg17 8dlu'rla L made no. further effort to engage her in conversation; my pride told me she was tired of me, and was very, quickly silent. It was tonly after she had withdrawal that felt had lost an advantage in her eyes, and nthat might have, said something to prove at least that had thought a great deal. | noticed that I was regarded with some suspicion by the guests, and knew 7afterward that it was the first time the young lady in gray had been tseen to converse at length with any of the visitors at the hotel 1 was the favored one Tor the old friend lurking about in disguise, and for some hidden purporse which they hoped to fathO.l presently, nr .s.;aa +.s @fr
 The next day l day made up my mind to cross the Channel and proceed homeward, but my plans were all upset by last nights conver- sation. was man under a spell-here was the unseen, incomprehensible motive force in which belived and which was drawing me toward this mystery, and making the young Frenchwoman part of my waking life. The dreams had vanished, and she was here in the foreground to ensnare or counsel me-to exercise supernatural power over me- if she were vain and fond of power. I did not own 77I could not think at this .time-that it was simply love for her which was affecting me- l had no belief in the love of man for woman Il would more readily place eredence in my theory of mysterious attraction, which was but hearts deep passion undersnother name Il l was weakling boasting of my strength, but was close upon my knowledge of the truth, | and 1t would soon dismay me- l did not know what havoc love could make in man naturally weak, and naturally anxious to be l ,. We became friends, Nirginie9 andI The I ice once broken between twa reserved natures, each alone in strange country, and each not one.and twenty, and there was no freezing again Of her demeanor toward me. If she did not look up to me, she respected me at least, and the smile with which she met me of a morning, her readiness to converse. to speak of her family and mine. to let me by degrees learn something of her and tell not little of myself were ties to draw me closer every day. knew that loved her then despite the 1 mystery which still surrounded her, despite the assurance to my heart that she was not telling me her whole history and that there would be more to learn some day. l could not expect implicit confidence from her, and yet she had had entire confidence from me-
 felt that could trust her, was only secret. ly pained that she could not put her faith in me- J,s.,a....s.I g. st5.aH 3aaEi sa1
 Presently she knew all my life, my anbi- tions, my wild theories, out of many of which she reasoned me with keen, incisive' argu- ments that proved how much stronger and brighter this mind was then myown; she was my junior by IS months, but was like a child in the hands of it's mother when she took me to task and railed tt my speculations.
 J "Yod are very weak Armond, !" she said to me one day, and with 30 pityin. look in her eyes that l winced under it. ''I could wish, for your sake, that you were a stronger-nind- ed man."
 7,rYou think I am easily led away, thens''
 rs II hardly know what,to think of you, 'tshe said sadly, /" or what. ,... s.s~h,.,., e,,
 ''Well?" asked. as she paused ~,
 7'Oriwhat will become of you, !" she added.
 ""Wtheut you-''L said impulsively; t'ah l don't know now '" 5s,. ...,...4 I,g |.
 She colored She had not been prepared for 30 kasty aahS out burst Of my feelings-I was not prepared myself. The very raiser ' of my tone of voice aperhaps convinced her, for the first time, of the deep love had for her. She was surprised, and for a, moment abashed-She knew my secret now, and was too wiselto seemawholy to misinterpret 1t. She was above so wamanly an affecation.@7 We were sttinng, at the 4pier-head together, waiting for the Channel boats arrival It was wintry weather, and no one was abroad that day but ourselves. The wind was coming tiercely across the sea, and the clouds were threatening rain. The holiday visitors had all flown hodneward, and there was only life and hustle in the little harbor beyond, and two strange hearts trying sperhapsto understand each other here, and one failing very misera. bly.n zsssls 1af F'3la i3tsf ai i9t'fN -s7s"~
 You will be soon going horne for good '' she said. after an awkward silence; II fancy even that y0m friends are growing anxious. y I ..What makes you think 'this?" asked quickly. a.s,.#t .s.t s.f-, zshltflNl slss.a .as5 Letters come more frequently to you and l you are sad after their perusal," h''Just asif did not care to return to the home to which 1 am summoned !"'I added. with forced laugh rsg ;, E.,.s -..ns s,s 115,iti l And that is true, too?"
 ''Yes-quite true," answered, .'and you ! know it " 4.,aM 1ssl sHe She regarded me very steadily now, and looked no longer away. The crisis had come. 1 and she was prepared for it. Be si's'a' s7@#tlo I s"Because you leave me here. and aft ter a l fashion, she shivered, as with the northern blast, five have become friends" ;. roh! you speak bitterly,"I cried. ''bnt God knows!yon are 6 friend that is very dear to me. To lose, you is to submerge my whole life. which would rather. part with than say good-bye. '.qfaos S1a9ist .z'''3 t.i''i' Sats
 Why !! this is the raving of | mat, ot, the stage, Armand " she said warmly, is..and will I beg of you to cease. ,"
 l .f0h !d1I know you don't care for ne-that ] am never likely to be any more in your esti- nation than 8 madman and 8 misa1thrope--- that we are not even suited to each other, l but" Padded, q can't help loving you, or saying so, any more than Icant help thing l Us the plain truth; ahiybni affsyas well know it., Virginie." fa.a,..a na,t,li,9 4-a daid I She looked at me with the same steady. l pitying lookl"i i'Fs ifs'' tiisiffEi v l 'at am very sorry te hear It. Tsffstrf l And 1t is no news to you, 7 Isadded. 3l-ivat | 'I may have feared that this was to be the l end of g friendship born in hours of idleness T and t< l.s~ ss se