The Florida agriculturist. [volume] (DeLand, Fla.) 1878-1911, 1890-04-30


day I went about the place with her, &C
companied by little Tota and Hendrika
cIlly, while she attended to the thousand
and one matters which her fathers ever
growing weakness had laid upon her;
or, rather, as time drew on, Iattended to
the business and she accompanied me.
All day through we were together. Then
after supper, when the night had fallen,
we would walk together in the garden
and come in at length to hear her father
read aloud, sometimes from the works Of
a poet, sometimes from history, or, if he
did not feel well, Stella would read, and
when this was done Mr.. Carson would
celebrate short form of prayer, and we
would separate till the morning once
more brought our happy hour of meeting
So the weeks went by, and with every
week grew to know my darling better.
Often I wonder now if my fond fancy
deceives me, or if indeed there are women
as sweet and dear as she. Was it solitude
that had given such depth and gentleness
to her? Was it the long years of COM
muning with nature that had endowed
her with such peculiar grace, the grace
we find in opening flowers and budding
trees? Had she caught that murmuring
voice from the sound of the streams that
fall continually about her rocky home?
was it the tenderness of the evening sky
beneath which she loved to walk, that
lay like a shadow on her face, and the
light of the evening stars that shone in
her quiet eyes? At the least, to me she
was the realization of the dream which
haunts the sleep of sin stained men; so
my memory paints her, so I hope to find
her when at last the sleep has rolled
away and the fevered dreams are done.
At last there came a day-the most
blessed of my life-when we told our
love. We had been together all the
morning, but after dinner Mr.. Carson
was SO unwell that Stella stopped in
with him. At supper we met again,
and after supper, when she had put
little Tota, to whom she had grown
much attached, to bed, we went out,
leaving Mr.. Carson doing on the couch.
The night was warm and lovely, and
without speaking we walked up the gar
den to the orange grove and sat down
there upon rock. There was a little
breeze which shook the petals of the
orange bloom over us in showers, and
bore their delicate fragrance far and
wide Silence reigned around, broken
only by the sound of the falling water
falls that now died to faint murmur,
and now, as the wavering breeze turned,
doomed loudly in our ears. The moon
was not yet visible. but already the dark
clouds that tloated through the sky
above us-for there had been rain
showed glow of silver, telling us that
she shone brightly behind the peak.
Stella began to talk in her low, gentle
voice, telling me of her life in the will
derness, how she had grown to love it,
how her mind had gone on from idea to
idea, and how she pictured the great
rushing world that she had never seen
as it was reflected to her from the books
which she had read. 1t was q curious
vision of life that she had; things were
out of proportion in it; it was more like
a dream than reality-a mirage than
the actual face of things. The idea of
great cities, and especially of London,
had a kind of fascination for her; she
could scarcely realize the rush, the roar
and hurry, the hard crowds of men and
women, strangers each to each, fever
ishly seeking for wealth and pleasure
beneath a murky Skv. and treadinp one