Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1886-10-27
Between the Two.

1uer6 are III our lives eplSOucS WAiou w
should be glad to forget of which we are
SO much ashamed that we scarcely dare 10
think of them, and when we do, find our
selves hurriedly muttering the words we
imagine we ought to have said, or making
audible apologies for our conduct to the ar;
and yet these are not always episodes which
necessarily involve tangible sense OF
wrong done either to ourselves or to others
Some such episodes in a commonplace life,
such as must have fallen to the lot of many
men, we would here reveal.
Once upon time, to commence in Or
thodox fashion, a man and maid lived ano
loved. On the woman's part the affection
was as pure and generous as ever filled the
breast of a maiden on the mans as warm
as his nature permitted. His love did not
absorb his whole soul it rather permeated
his mind and eolored his being. Like most
men of his not uncommon stamp, his aftec-
tion once given, was given forever. HE
was not a jubilant nature, nor did his feel
ings lie near the surface. and his manner
was undemonstrative. The girl was clear
sighted enough to see that what love there
Was was pure and true, and she made VI
for its scarcity with the overf1owings of her
sympathetic nature. She idolized rather
than condoned' She gave in such measure
that could not perceive how little she was
receiving in return or, if she noticed it;
her consciousness Of its worth seemed to
her equivalent. He was an artist, and cir
cumstances forced the lovers to wait, and
at the same time kept them apart. A
couple of days once month, and week
now and again, was the limit of the time
they could spend together. This, of course,
prevented them getting that intimate
knowledge of each others personality
which both recognized as an essential ad-
jjunct to the happiness of married life,
though they tried their best to obviate it by
long letters, giving full details of daily
events and of the society in which they
moved. The remedy was an imperfect one.
Strive as they might, the sketch was crude,
and the letters had a tendency to be stereo-
typed. We only mention these details to
show-that they tried to be perfectly honest
with each other.
While the girls life in her quiet country
home was one that held little variety in it,
it was a part of the mans stock in trade to
mix with society and observe closely
Whether he liked it or not he was COM
PEELED to make friends to such an extent as
to afford him an opportunity of gauging
character Unfortunately for the purposes
VI LII y 81 utiy, LIZ udu uO SYMPATHY Will peo-
simism or pessimists. He loved the good
and the beautiful for their own sakes, and
in his art loved to dwell on the bright side
of human nature, side which the writer
has found SO much easier to meet with than
the more sombre coloring we are constantly
told is the predominating one in life. Like
most artists he was somewhat susceptible,
but'his susceptibility was on the surface
the inward depths Of his soul had never
been stirred save by the gentle girl who
held his heart, and she was such as to in
spire constant and growing affection
rather than demonstrative passion.
| At one of the many houses at which he
was welcome guest the lover found a
young girl, bright, sensuous, beautiful
Unwittingly he compared her with the one
whose heart he held, and the comparison
was unsatisfactory to him do what he
would, the honesty of his nature compelled
him to allow that this beautiful girl was
the superior, in number of ways, to hel
whom he had pledged his life. He was
caught in the Circe's chains of golden hair,
and fancied. almost hoped, yet fearing, lest.
like bands Of cobwebs in tho fairy tale,. the
tolls were too strong for him to break. He
could see, too, that the girl regarded him
with a feeling SO warm that chance spark
would rouse it into a flame of love, and
this gave her an interest as dangerous as il
| was fascinating. His fancy swerved. Day
after day he strove with himself, and by
efforts, too violeut to be wise, he kept away
| from the siren until his inflamed fancy
forced him back to her side.
To the maiden in the country he was
partially honest. In his letters he faith
fully told her Of his visits, and as far as he
could, recorded his opinions Of the girl who
had captivated bis fancy Too keen al
artist to be blind to her faults, he dwell
ON them in his frequent letters at unneces
sary length. When the lovers met the CIR
questioned him closely about her rival, bu
only from the interest she felt ip all hi!
friends, known and unknown, for her love
for him was too pure and strong to admi
of jealousy, and he, with what honesty ht
could, answered her questions unreservedly
| Little by little he began to examine him
self. Which girl did he really love? Should
he not be doing wrong to both by not de
Gliding? The examination was dangerous
| because it was not thorough. The premise
was true, but incomplete. Yet we should
wrong him if we implied that he for a mo
ment thought seriously about breaking of
his engagement. Even had he wished. his
almost mistaken feelings of homer would
have forbidden It. The constant surface
| introspection, a kind of examination which
had not the subject been himself, he woult
have despised and avoided, could have bu
enc result, an obliquity of mental vision.-
| He had horror of being untrue, untrue tc
| himself as untrue to his lass, and yet hi
dreaded causing pain to bosom SO tender
and innocent. When he sat down to write
| the periodical letters to the girl to whom ht
was engaged he found his phrases becoming
more and more general and guarded Ht
took pains not to let her know what he fel
was surrounding her, and the letters grew
as unnatural as they had been the reverse
They were descriptive of the man, rathe
than the reflex of his personality.
The country girl was quick of perception
The letters were more full of endearine
terms than ever they were longer and tolt
more of his life, yet between the lines sh
could see that they were by one who's
heart was not at rest, and that a sense o
duty and not Of pleasure prompted the am
pie details. Their very regularity was
painful !; it seemed as if the writer was anx
ious to act up to tho letter of his under
standing. She knew that the letters wer
often written when he was tired out. VIII
did he not put OFF writing, and, taking ad
vantage of her love, let her exercise he
trust in him? Eagerly she scanned th
pages to find the name of her rival, an
having found it, would thoughtfully weig
every word Of description, of blame c
praise.
When the lovers met she questioned bir
more closely than she had ever done before
He was seemingly as fond as ever, no er
dearing, no accustomed caress was fol
gotten. He spoke of himself and his friend
as freely as usual, and all her question
were answered without shadow of reserve
Yet the answers were slower, and his mar
her absent and thoughtful. For time sh
put it down to the absorbing nature of h
pursuits; but little by little belief ths
she was no longer dearest crept into ht
heart and would not be dislodged, try {
she might. She thought she was jealot
and struggled night and day against fau
she dreaded above all others, then in
paroxysm of despair she allowed herself
be convinced of what she feared, and, 10
ing him deeply, prepared to make IL
greatest sacrifice an unselfish woman ca
) offer. He no longer loved her, it was be