Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1891-11-26
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olr EumOnuB Qaugnber. Ellis soeIntu
quite happy, as did also the others. their
faces smiling, their conversation appar
emily animated and free The English |
girl was charmingly dressed, and her
face, though not beautiful, was high
bred and fascinating. and her form was
superb
A strange feeling crept over Rosalie
as she looked down upon this passing
group. 1t was like a breath of ex-
quisite sorrow or regret; her heart |
seemed to fall low in her breast and
futter painfully. Some sweet thing her
fancy had been nursing slipped away
from her. Ellis turned his eyes toward
the house. She retreated from the win
dow for fear he might see her; then she
sank into chair and cried, she knew
not why. Life seemed to her to be
growing hollow and meaningless; its
zest had slipped away, like perfume
from whitening flower She began to
be restless and impatient for the time to
come round when she and her father,
with Aunt Marguerite and Adelaide,
would go across the sea, but the thought
of the journey pleased her more on ac-
count of the distance it would give than
for any Joy which it promised at its end.
So the days slipped past, until at last
letter came to her from Edgar Julian.
81 did not get to say goodby to you"
he wrote, therefore | take the liberty
to write this instead. fingered along
the road homeward among the battle
fields of Georgia and Tennessee, but
found no pleasure in what | saw. /
seemed to miss something which would
have made even the brown hills charm
ing. When | crossed the Ohio river
met great snowstorm, sent down from
Chicago to welcome me, and quite soon
the ground was covered foot deep with
| the white fleece of winter. Here the
streets are all ice and snowbanks, and as
| | write the wind is blue with cold and is
bowling like pack of hungry wolves.
| am dissatisfied and wish | were back
in Savannah, on your uncle's wide We.
randa, with the salt air blowing over me
and the palm trees rustling their spread
ing fans hard by. don't believe am a
northern man any longer; the worry and
hurry of Chicago does not satisfy my
especial hunger. May l come backf
think could be less trouble to all you
hospitable and patient southerners now
this great distance has brought out in
strong relief all my faults and all youl
goodness How infinitely warm and
comforting, how perfumed and luxuriant
how breezy, how shady, how inviting il
the whole south, now that have left it
Il have the hot air register wide oper
in my room and big coal fire on thu
hearth, and yet am freezingf Won
you and Mrs. Roosevelt please invite MT
II to come back? / could run on errand
for you, and make myself reasonabl.
useful, and would try and not be mucl
in the way.
81 heard Gerster sing last night, ant
Litta the night before, but woult
rather be in that dim old parlor il
} Roosevelt Place and hear La Mandore;
my spirit is there now-do you not Offer
hear it rustling around in its favorit'
places? stopped at Calhoun and Resac;
as came home, and while there | in
quired for the Chenier mill, and found i
was only thirty miles distant. The temp
tation to visit it was very great, but
resisted always do resist at the WRONG
time
Frankly, l want to say that am un
ft for business since returning, and
think of nothing but how | shall ge
back to Savannah without offending M
own sense of the fitness of things.
: have been worse since seeing in Savan
nah paper yesterday notice in the pei
sonal column of your return to Roose
welt Place. True, the paper was tw
weeks old when got it, but it had it
! effect all the same.
"You will not be offended If say tina
: find life burden where you are not t
be seen and heard want to talk witt
you and hear you sing. have thought
since came here, of a hundred things
) forgot to tell you about Provence ant
Chateau Chenier, and | have wondere,
how passed SO much time with you AM
said so little. What did we ever tai
about2 | remember nothing, save on
last conversation, and even that had N
end-it was left.in mist. | told you
loved you, but did not and could no
! ! tell you how deep and strong that lov
! was, how it had become the very life Q
! my life. My lips refused then, as m
pen does now, to express how dear yo
: are to me. Forgive me if this lette
| seems foolish to you l cannot see m
, way to any better mode of action tha
this simple statement of the truth.
!. trust you to respect my sincerity, eve
: you must cast aside my love as some
: thing not worth your keeping"
Rosalie read this in her own room
/. read it and reread it, with quickene
: pulse and a sweet sense of its half hopt
full, half despairing spirit. 1t brougt
! Edgar Julian before her, just as she ha
= seen him last; his strong, handsome
truthful face full of passionate tender
ness for her She could not think clea
: : ly; her heart throbbed almost painful.
n n Adelaide came in presently and Rosali
4 gave her the letter to read.
! "Do you love him, Rosalie2" the sistt
asked after she had finished.
= "I-I-don't know" was the stan
) mered reply.
= 81 think you ought to know" sal
! Adelaide; Glove is no light thing. Is |
g handsome2"
: mo, not very-not handsome as the