The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-11-15
LOVE LETTERS UNDER DIFFICULTIES.
How Saints and Sermons Were Pressed Into
Service by n Cuban Belle.


Service by n Cuban Belle
While was in Cuba was fortunate enough
to form the acquaintance of lady of noble Mex
lean family, who had been settled in the island
Tor many years. She must have been between
sixty and seventy, but, except that her hair was
snow white and her form somewhat bent, she
showed little sign of age, while her skin still pre-
served its smoothness and her eyes sparkled
with the vivacity of youth She was one of
the most charming takers l have met. One
evening. IN conversation with her. I alluded to
the passage In the "BaYbiere," where Don Barto-
10 examines his nieces fingers to see if she has
been writing to Almaviva Surely" said ct
is out of the nature of things to suppose that Don
bartolo would exercise so strict watch upon his
ward"
Donna Juana smiled
We'll, she said after moments pause ''T
Will tell you of a case In point which shows that
when vas girl such extreme vigilance was by
no means uncommon. / was educated with my
sisters at a convent near Mexico. / was the
youngest, and when was fifteen / returned to
my fathers house. My sisters had married,
and was alone with my father and my duenna.
led very happy life; whatever l wished for
was mine at once; and was careful not to give
utterance to unreasonable desires. In the morn
ing sat in the house, or walked with my du-
emma; in the afternoon we drove my father rid
Ing by the side of the carriage. Four things
only were denied me; pen. ink, pencil and paper
put had no one to write to, and did not fell
thought much about it. So You see, senior, that
your Don Bartolo is not such an exaggerated
character; for my fathers views were but those
or his countrymen."
But, tell me, Sonora" said T. "did the time
never come when you found these restrictions
burdensome2n
lyon shall hear" she said; that is, if you
care to listen to the love story of old woman
like myself. was seated one morning at the
window, when l noticed young cavalier come
riding I'D the street, He was superblv dressed
and mounted; he wore a broad brimmed SOM
brero; trimmed with silver lace his large black
riding cloak was lined with scarlet, aid his
heavy silver spurs jngled as he rode thought
L never in my life had seen SO handsome a cava-
ier He saw me sitting at the widow and looked
SO hxedly at me that drew the
curtain in my embarrassment. He
must have turned his horse at the
head of the street, for while was still trembling
with excitement, he came riding past again, and
this time, as he passed. he took off his sombrero
and bowed l scarcely slept that night Next
morning accompanied my duenna to mass at the
cathedral. AS we left the church | raised my
eyes and saw the cavalier who had bowed to me
the day before, standing at the entrance. Senior,
L need not tell you that had never had any ex-
perlence in affairs of the heart; / was fresh from
the convent, and had scarcely spoken to any man
except my confessors and my father; but felt
instinctively that this handsome gentleman had
come there to see me. AS we passed, / felt his
hand touch mine and little note was placed
between my fingers
when returned to the house. managed,
not without difficulty to open and read my letter
alone. 1t is fifty years since received it, and
have 1t still-my first love-etter. Can you enter
into the feelings of q Mexican girl when she is
told for the first time that her eyes are brighter
than the stars. more. tender than the gaZelle's,
and that her heart surely cannot be colder than
her smile? But / will not weary you with the
repetition of my precious little letter. every line
of which still know by heart. . / read and re-
read It, and then sat down to consider how / was
to answer il"
There your difficulty must have been insur
mountable."
Truly it did at first seem So Writing ma
terias had Confide in my duenna
dared not She was relative of my fathers,
stern and severe. Still, l was determined to
answer the letter So kind note so handsome
a cavalier; it would he cruel to leave him without
a reply. Besides my heart enlisted on his
side. The letter had to be answered, that was
certain; only how was to do it?
Il need not tell you, who know something of
Spanish life, that my library was extremely Sc
lect. Indeed, it consisted but of my book of of
fee and two large books of devotional exhorta-
tions. But had a huge packet Of saints cards
l had used at the convent-one for almost every
day in the year / do not know whether you
have ever seen such cards-with picture OF the
saint or martyr at the top, and prayer ad-
dressed to him underneath. WE'LL I was des-
perate and L resolved TO sacrifice the saints
cards. L cut out the words l needed-and the
fervid CALCULATIONS served my purpose well-and
thus / composed my letter. Then took one of
my handkerchiefs, and sewed each word to it in
regular order.
The next morning was at my window be-
times, and it was not long before saw the cav
alier approach on foot | rolled my handker.
chief into ball, and when he was close to the
window let it drop at his feet. He picked it
up, pressed it to his lips, and fastened away.
I'm this manner we correspondent for nearly two
months, exchanging handkerchiefs daily, either
at my window or at the cathedral door. During
all this time had never exchanged spoken
word with this gentleman. He told me who he
was, and was rejoiced to learn that his family
equal In position to our own. By this time my
pile of saints cards had been long exhausted,
and the books of sermons were badly mutilated,
but they furnished me with the fairest phrases
When the second month had passed wrote that
/ thought he should speak with my father.
1.-THE next day he came, accompanied by his
uncle, and proposed formally for my hand. My
father readily accepted him, for he was man of
distinction, and noble We were married soon af-
ter, and lived for ten years in Mexico Polit-
zeal disturbances forced us to retire to Cuba,
where my husband had estates | have been
twenty years widow, and have never ceased to
regret my loss. So you see senior, that though
l won my husband by deception, yet it was, as it
WERE forced upon me. and ! think in my case ID
was pardonabe. Only the saints cards, and
those pious booksl that was a grievous sin, andI
have done penance for it since, may tell you"
l have given the substance of the story but
the manner of the narration cannot be repro
duced. The lovely, white haired old lady, tell
ing her little love story of half century ago,
now with a smile and then a sigh; her soft voice,
and the tenderness in her eyes she spoke of
her husband and lover, would have impressed
the most careless listener; and by one who heard
her the story of that evening will not soon be
forgotten.
TO