Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1886-09-22

The thought of losing sight of them.
In vain; they had disappeared. After
this life was quite changed for me.
My mind was filed with thoughts of
this once seen stranger; my eyes saw
nothing but the face with the wonder
full impressive eyes. 1t is difficult for
those who have eve experienced one
of these wild passions, which are con-
temptuOuSly Jumped in common cate
CORY, as calf-loves, to realize the intens-
ity and power with which they rage
among the most commonplace sur
roundings. In most places they pro-
duce an exalted state of mind, which
does not betray itself except to the
most intimate of bosom friends. The
victim goes his way in a fairyland or
hell of his own making. Occasionally
only, in very highly wrought natures,
q tragedy of some sort happens-brain
fever and sometimes suicide. l went
home with this new fascination upon
me. Ny powers of studying were i'm
paired. l struggled to stick to work.
I grew restless and wakeful, and in
my hours of relaxation took solitary
walks, worrying myself by fancying I
saw the face in my dreams in every car
rage that passed. Ny walks
always took me eventually to Bond
street, and past the shop where [ had
seen my vision. The more I let this
craze grow upon me, the more wretched
and anxious 1 became. [ haunted
Bond street, fearing that just when I
gave up my vigil she might come once
to the music-shop. 1grew pale.
thin, utterly miserable. At length I
was roundly taken to task by a friend
or two. They attributed the change in
my appearance simply to overwork.
In truth, work had something to do
with it; for though I profited but little
by my application, I worried myself
still more. ''Take a holiday" was the
advice of my friends; and at last l
agreed. I planned to run down into
the country to my mother; but at the
last moment my courage failed me.
I could not tear myself away from
London. from the possibilities-the
wearing possibilities of meeting the
unknown beauty again. l wrote to
excuse myself for a day or two, and
then on the morning I had designed to
begin my holiday, l set out for a long
walk
1 walked for miles building castles,
nourishing absurd hopes. I walked on
far behind my strength, and when
about two miles from a station, where
I meant to take train tor London, I
was caught in heavy rain. Tired and
wet through, l %journeyed back. I
could not face the thought of a solitary
evening in my lodgings. I walked up
towards Piccadilly. Passing st. James's
Hall 1 found a big concert announced
for that evening. l went in. The
light struck with painful force upon
my eyes, as I took a look round the
vast and crowded hall. But as l re-
solved to withdraw them from the
painful glare and give myself up
wholly to the music, l caught sight of
a face in a remote stall that made ME
giddy with sudden emotion. 1t was
she. There was no thought of the
music now. 1 stared, all eyes, in the
direction of the mysterious beauty. I
shive1ed with excitement or chilli
knew not which. Every now and then
the intensity of my gaze was hindered
by intense shoots of pain and rings of
various colors floating before my eyes,
l was unable to remain pent up in the
room. l trembled at the thought
that I might miss her at
the door. I do not know
exactly what nv intention was. l re-
member only that l was madly anxious
to see her close once more. I made
my way out, and waited about the exit
by which l knew she must come. 1t
was cold and wet. I was fasting,
weary, and wet through. Yet I waited
with only tho thought that she would
sooner or later appear. At last people
began to come out. First in driblets,
then in a full stream, then in a crowd.
My patience was rewarded. She APP
peared. In watching her l forgot my
skill in maintaining my place. I was
born on in the crowd, and managed to
stop myself just by the first step.
There I chung and waited still. She
came nearer. AS she came quite close
to me, l lost my foothold again, and
was carried some steps into the
street. She appeared on the step. At
that moment a sort of rush behind
drove those, who were waiting, against
the stream of people coming out of the
doorway. l slipped and tumbled, and
found myself falling against the wo~
man who had for weeks been vainly
in my thoughts by night and day. I
could not quite ave myself. She put up
her arm ~instinctively to protect her.
self. l fell against her. A massive
bracelet. which she wore, was prob
ably driven into her arm. Keeling.
djzzied. enraged, ashamed, | collected
my senses for some sort of apology,
but she turned upon me those splendid
black eyes that had haunted my NOR
bid fancy for weeks, and looked upon
me with such an expression OF anger
and contemplated naughty fury and
whitening disdain, that 1 felt as if I had
received a physical blow. I reelcd; dark
circles seemed to grow and grow be-
fore me-the centre of which were those
cruel dark eyes. I stretched out my
hands, staggered, and lost conscious
ness. 1t was the usual story. Weak
health, fatigue, exposure, excitement
brought on a dangerous illness; and;
when | recovered my health, my sight
vas gone.
Since then my life had been a terri
be struggle with despair. The first
peace l bad known had been in the
calm and pleasant precincts of St. Bar
timeus, whittier I had come after feel
ing for three years an intolerable bur-
den at home. The state of semi-mad-
ness that preceded my illness seemed
now almost ludicrous to me. except for
it's connection with my terrible cal
amity. The only feeling that remained
in my mind about the unknown lady
was one of almost superstitious repuf-
sion. l felt that she was in some way
responsible for my blindness, that her
malignant glance had lem the real
cause of my loss of sight.
Over all these reflections my mind
ran, while my good kind friend, DR..
Shaw, was submitting his new poem to
my critical consideration.
"By-the-bye," said Shaw, when we
had discussed his effort a little, ''by-
the-bye, the Beaufoys have come back.
You will probably hear Miss Beaufoy
o;nn