San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-07-23

| CmnSS 10 uO-'rOck' IN the AFTERNOON
with Mr.. Boullter, piazza in the even
ing with Bran. The beach, the studio
the light house, the hops, were as moth
| ing in comparison. All, how | remem
Der how we used to start out in the COO
sea breeze! while we trudged along the
dusty road, thought only of the envy
caused in every feminine breast by my
easy. possession of this tall and graceful
creature swinging along beside me, with
his bronzed complexion and golden curls
his beautiful coats and careless carriage
but when we had passed the black and
dusty pier and had begun to tread the
crisp grasses and huckleberries l saw
the sweep of the horizon before me, and
thought only of Bran and romance!
At last his two weeks were up. pre-
pared myself for the parting and made
up my mind to draw the curtain upon
the last bit of poetry in my life-but, to
my surprise, he did not go! AT first |
was inclined to be little angry, and
fancied that he would interfere with my
designs on Mr.. Charter, but ON second
thoughts was very glad he was still on
the ground. For, reflected, if l make
a dead set at Mr. Charter he will dodge
me, but as he has never taken the trou-
bic to consider that the real private ayti-
tude of most girls toward him must be
that of indifference he will be confused
if can make him think that | am re-
polling his advances. If, then, | first
make him believe that he is cutting out
Mr.. Boullter and then am cavalier with
him he will be piqued, and it will be
easy enough for me to lead on. But |
must watch my chances carefully-in
vain is the net spread in the sight of any
bird.
Ny reasoning was quite just, and the
only flaw in my scheme was that Mr..
Boullter might see through it; but |
comforted myself by thinking that he
would not take the trouble to ponder
deeply over the reasons which led me to
smile on Mr.. Charter, and that having
had two weeks of me he himself Yves
probably preparing to worship some
other divinity before my very eyes.
Before going any further l must re-
count an affair that made me some
what dissatisfied with myself. In max
ing choice among the young men of
my acquaintance l had thought for a
moment of Mr.. Hall. but had decided
that his character was too lofty and Sc
we're for me to be able to make much of
an impression on him. | had come to
regard him with a mixture of awe, lik-
ing and impotence. His conversation
was at times more profoundly interest
ing to me than that of any other man /
knew, and at other times he bored me
horribly. He was grave without being
at all gloomy, and his manner and ad-
dress always excited my greatest respect
and admiration.
Possessed of large fortune he had de-
voted himself to study, and had already
written law book that had been highly
praised. | knew well that ut some fut-
urc day he would be very distinguish
ed man. and faint futtcr agitated my
hart at the thought of being his wife;
bHt I did not think myself ut all up to
his standard, and possibly may also
have shuddercl at the prospect of be-
in% too good. At any rate, never
attributed the decorous attentions he
paid me to anything but his feelings
coucerning my father, about whom he
spoke to me several times; and though
| frequently got into very earnest dis
rUssiOus with him, and on more than
one occasion hopelessly lost myself in
the endeavor to comprehend his eXplana-
tons of modern theories and the philos-
ophy Of history and such deep subjects
q remember that he talked to me one
whole evening abont Hyp&tia, which |
hal inst been reading, and though l was
desperately interested | scarcely under
stood half of what he said and only got
" general impression that people had be-
gun 10 be wicked as soon as they became
Christians. and had not grown better
- time wore on), still | accounted for
III attentions on the score of his general
tondnesS for discussion and his willing
ileSs to instruct ignorant little geese like
.IySelf
And | suppose had an innate dislike
for his consi @ency. He was curiously
gunctiIious and almost irrational in his
regard for siugleness of conduct. He
never spoke of his idoasin any way as if
lie was thinking of himself as the ex-
ample of his own gospcl-hc would as
soon have discussed with you his razors
or his wriStbands-bu he often told me
that he admired nothing so much rs alb
solute constancy to ones word il every
thing; and he never would let any con-
Sideration affect or change his mind.
This | could not underestimate was
utter.y foreign to my nature. learned
from him to be silent when things did
not go as l wished them to go, but his