Weekly commercial herald. (Vicksburg, Miss.) 1884-18??, 1885-08-21

before you can understand my mental state.
Whether you ~sympathize with me or not
depends entirely on your own organization.
II you are so constructed that the love Of
,ne woman, and one only, can pervade your
very being, fill your every thought, direct
your every action, make life to you a bless
ing or a curse-if love comes to you In this
guise, you will be able to understand me.
That night, when I first presented myself
10 you, my wounds seemed less likely than
aver to heal; forgetfulnesS seemed further
and further away. Somehow as my thoughts
bookthe well-worn road to the past, every
event seemed recent as yesterday, every
scene vivid as if / had just left it. Hour
after hour I sat gazing at the glowing en-
bers, but seeing only Philippa's beloved
face. How had life Jared with herl Where
was she at this moment The resolve to
quit my seclusion was made anew by me.
| would go into the world and find her-not
for any selfish motive. l would learn from
her W lips that she was happy. If unhappy,
she should have from me such comfort as
the love of a true friend can give. Yes, l
would leave this wretched life tomorrow.
NV cheek flushed as l contrasted what was
with what 1 ought to be. No nan has a
right to ruin his life or hide his talents for
the sake of a woman.
| had another inducement which urged
me to make q change in my mode of life.
l am ashamed that 1 have not spoken of it.
That morning / had received a letter from
my mother. l had not seen her for six
years. Just as l entered mans estate she
married for the second time. My stepfather
was an American, and with many tears my
mother left ne for her new home. Some
months ago her husband died. L should
have gone to her, but she forbade Inc. She
had no children by her second husband, n
now that his affairs were practically wound
up she proposed returning to England. Her
letter told me that she would be in London
in three days time, and suggested that l
should meet her there.
Although of late years we had drifted
apart, she was dear, very dear to me. l
hated the thought Of her seeing me, her
only child, reduced to such a wreck of my
former self; yet for her sake l again re-
newed my resolve Of leaving my seclu-
sion.
Yet / knew that tomorrow l should for
swear myself, and sink back into my apathy
and aimless existence. All! l knew not
what events were to crowd into the morrow
But now back to the night. 1t was mid
winter, and bitterly cold out of doors. MY
lamp was not yet lighted; the glow Of my
fire alone broke the darkness of the room.
l had not even drawn the curtains or shut
the shutters. At times l liked to look out
and see the stars. They shone so peacefully,
so calmly, so coldly; they seemed so unlike
the world, with its strife and fierce passions
and disappointments.
Irose ~languidly from my chair and walked
to the window, to see what sort of a night ii
was. AS l approached the easement l could
see that the skies had darkened; moreover, ]
noticed that feathery flakes of snow were
accommodating in the corner of each pane. J
went close to the window and peered out
into the night.
Standing within a yard of ME, gazing into
my dlmly lit room her face stern and pale
as death, her dark eyes now riveted on my
own, was a woman; and that woman va!
Philippa, my love!
For several minutes I stood, spellbound
gazing at her. That l saw more than {
phantom of my imagination did not at ono,
enter into my head. In dreams l had seei
her l loved again and again, but this wa
the first time my waking thoughts had con
jured up such a vision. Vision, dream
reality! l trembled as l looked; for the form
was that Of Philippa in dire distress.
1t was seeing the hood which covered he
head grow winter and whittier with the fas
falling snow which aroused me to my senses
and made every fiber thrill with the though
that Philippa, in flesh and blood, stood be
fore me. With a low cry of rapture l tor
asunder the ~fastenings of the French case
ment, threw the sashes apart, and without
word my love passed from the cold, bleal
night into my room.
She was wrapped from head to foot in
rich dark fur-trimmed cloak. As she swep
by me l felt she was damp with partially
thawed snow. l closed the window: then
with a t~hrobbing heart, turned to greet m,
visitor. She stood in the centre of the room
Her mantle had fallen to the ground, an
through the dusk l could see her white face
hands and neck. I took her hands in mine
they were as cold as %icicles.
"Philippa! Philippa! why are you hereP'
whispered. "Welcome, thrice welcome
whether you bring me joy or sorrow"
A trembling ran through her. She sail
nothing, but her cold hands clasped min
closer. l led her to the fire, which l stirre,
until it blazed brightly. She kneeled befor
it and stretched out her hands for warmth
How pale she looked! how unlike 5he Phil
ippa of old! But to my eyes how lovely!
AS l looked down at the fair woman kneel
ing at my feet, with her proud head bent a
in shame, l knew intuitively that l shoult
be called upon to keep my oath; and know
ing this, | re-registered it in all its entirety
At last she raised her face to mine. L
her eyes was "a sombre fire, which until nov
1 had never seen there. ''Philippal Philip
pal" l cried again.
"Fetch a light" she whispered. 'Let m
see a friends face once more-if you are still
my friend"
"Your friend, your true friend forever"
said, as l FASTENED to obey her.
As l placed the lamp on the table Philips
arose from her knees. l could now see tina
she was in deep mourning. Was the though
that flashed through me, that it might b
that she was a widow, one of joy or sorrow
Ihope-I try to believe it was the latter.
We stood for some moments in silence
My agitation, my rapture at seeing her ono
more seemed to have deprived me of speech
1 could do little more than to gaze at he
and tell myself that l was not dreaming
that Philippa was really here: that it wa
her voica that had heard, her hands 1 clasp
ed. Philippe it was, but not the Philippa o
old!
The rich, warm, glowing beauty seemed
toned down. Her face had lost its exquisit
color. Moreover, it was the face of one VIII,
has suffered-one who is suffering. To me i