The united opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1881-1970, 1885-01-16

indeed. wretched. The only thin
which seemed likely to benefit her was
continual change of air and scene. Ate
attending her for about six months, wa
| in conscience bound to intorse the Opinion
] OF her former medical advisors, and tell he
il would he well for her TO try anothe
change.
My heart was heavy as gave this ID
vice. II adopted, 1t meant that Philip,
and must part.
But why, during those six months, had
not, passionately in love as was, won tn
young girls heart! Why did she not leav,
me as my aflianced bride9 Why did l 10
nor leave me ut alll
The answer is short. She loved me not
Not that she had ever told me so in words
had maven asksi her In words for her love
But she must have known--she must have
known! When l was with her. every look
every action Of mine must have told her the
truth. Women are not fools or blind.
man, loving as 1 did,!who can conceal the
true state of his feelings must be more than
mortal
1had not spoken; dared not speak. Bet
ter uncertainty with hope than certainty
with despair. The Say on which Philippa
refused my love would be as the day OF
death to me.
Besides, what had to offer herl Although
succeeding fairly we'll for a beginner, at
present could only ask the woman made
my wife to share comparative poverty. And
Philippa! All! would have wrapped Phil.
ippa in luxury! All that wealth could buy
ought to be hers. Had you seen her in tbs
glory of her fresh young beauty, you would
have smiled at the presumption of the man
who could expect such being to become
the wife of n hard working and as yet ILL
paid doctor. You would have felt that she
should have had the world at her feet.
Had thought that she loved mo might
perhaps have dared to hope she would even
then have been happy as my wife. But SHE
did not love me- Moreover, she was ambi'
tious
She knew-small blame to her-how beau
tiful she was. Do wrong her when say
that in those days she looked for the Gift of
rank and riches from the man who loved her!
She knew that she was queen among
women, and expected queens dues.
(Sweetest are my words cruel! They are
the cruelest l have spoken, or shall speak,
against you. Forgive themD
W" were friends-agfuat friends. Such
friendship is loves bene. 1t buoys false
hopes; it lulls to security; it leads astray; it
is staff which breaks suddenly, and wounds
HE hand which leans upon it. So little 1t
seems to need to make friendship grow into
owe; and yet how seldom that little is
added! The love which begins with hate or
dislike is often lucker than that which
begins with friendship. Lovers cannot be
friends.
Philippa and her mother left my neigh
oorhood. They went to London for awhile
heard from them occasionally, and once or
twice, when in town, called upon them
Time went by | worked hard at my pro-
'ession the WHILE striving, by sheer toll, to
lrive away the dream from my life. Alas!
strove in vain. To love Philippa was to
owe her forever!
One morning letter came from her. !
ore it Open The news it contained was
,rievous. Her mother had died suddenly. !
Philippe was alone in tho world So far as
knew, she had not relative left; and be-
ieved, perhaps hole that, save myself, |
he had no friend.
! needed no time for consideration That |
afternoon ! was in London. II could not
comfort her in her great sorrow l could at
east svmpathize with her; could undertake
he management OF the many business de-
als which are attendant upon a death.
Poor Philippa! She was glad to see M"
Through her tears she flashed me look q
gratitude. l did all l could for her, an
tayed in town until the funeral was over
Then was obliged to think of going hom-.
What was to become of the girll
kith or kin she had none, nor did she
mention the name of any friend who would
Ne willing to receive her. As I suspected.
he was absolutely alone in the world. A.
oon as my back was turned she would have
10 one on whom she could count for SYM
'athy or help.
1t must have been her utter loneliness
which urged ne, in spite of my better judy
nent, in spite of the grief which still oppress- (
1 her, to throw myself at her feet and de
lare the desire of my heart My words |
annot recall, but think-I know l pleaded
loquently. Such passion as mine gives !
over and intensity to the most impractical {
reaker. Yet long before my appeal was !
nde knew that pleaded in vain. Her
yes, her manner, told me she loved me not.
Then, remembering her present helpless {
checked myself. l begged her
, forget the words l had spoken not to q
nswer them now; to let me say them again
some months time. Let me still be her ]
riend, and render her such service as / &
oud.
She shook her head; she held out her hand. /
he first action meant the refusal of my c
we: tho second, the acceptance of my c
Ischooled myself to calmness. G
nd we discussed her plans for the future. (
She was lodging in house in a quiet, re. '
,ectable street near Regents Park She t
,pressed her intention of staying on here S
II awhile.
Put alone!" exclaimed.
''Why not! What have l to fear? Still n
am open to reason if you can sugges, t
lother plan" o
could suggest no other. Philippa was q
,st twenty-one and would at once succeed b
whatever money had been her mothers. b
his was enough to live upon. She had no l
lends, and must live somewhere. Why "
ou'd she not stay on at her present lodg n
gss Nevertheless, l trembled as / thought /
this beautiful girl all alone in London Il
by could she not love me? Why could h
e not be my wife? 1t needed all my self fl
straint TO keep me from breakins afresh +
to passionate appeals.
As she would not give mo the right TO dis N
use of her future l could do nothing more. a
babe her a sad farewell, then went bacl, p
my home to conquer my unhappy love. u
to suffer from its fresh inroads.
Copo,ar Gucb Iowa NINA 4, /