The record-union., 1892-04-23
MY LAST PROPOSAL.

had made other declarations of love,
all OF them unsuccessful, was glad to
think, and yet here l was at 40-well, let
us say between 50 and 40-shivering on
the brink OF. another proposal. / had
just come home to my rooms in King
Bench Walk after dining at the Barn
dores. OF course, had met little Mrs.
Wlnterton there; of course, ] had taken
her IN to dinner-the world we both lived
IN was always bringing us together in
that sort of way-and equally, of course,
was soon dreaming over the fire of her
slim, taut little figure in its dainty black
silk setting. 1 had always liked the name
of Kate, thought; it was homely, COM
| Portable, and yet not commonplace. Yes,
/ 1t would do very well. Neither had L
1 any narrowminded aversion to widows.
| L telt that if Mrs. Winterton, who had
tried the holy state of matrimony once,
cared to try 1t again, ii was scarcely for
me, who had no experience, TO raise OBJ
! Jectlons. lhad always regarded Weller
the elder, as dull man OF blunted senti-
ments, who somewhat deserved his tate
Inc exlgencles of his profession, 100,
! were not calculated to promote connubial
bliss. In legal slang, his case was not on
an tours" with mine, and l knew that
Mrs. WInterton and | could easily refute
what one may call the Wellerian fallacy,
II we wished to do SO. But did we wish
to? and why should we wish TO? These
were the questions troubling my mind
| at this moment
L was too old to pretend to mad, de-
! Spalring passion; Kate was too sensible.
but we were both almost alone in the
world, and this, l think, had brought us
closer together and made us rather like
old friends than new acquaintances.
She was bright, witty, cheerful and
yes, l think she was pretty. She had a
nice little fortune, too, people said, but
had charged myself a hundred times with
caring for that, and always acquitted my
self honorably, with cheers in court. l
dld not lack money; my wants were few,
ana L could supply them without painful
or ANXIOUS labor. No. / was in love
With Kate Winterton, that was the fact,
let me face it bravely.
Lighting candle. for the shaded lamp
was insufficient for my purpose, rose
and looked in the mirror over the man
telplece. The candle made the worst of
things, thought; it seemed to bring out
all the lines in my face, and there GER
on my forehead. / believe there are
fewer to-day, Kate!l But where is the
harm IN few lines in a mans face?
They give it character. And when L
looked at my features there was no doubt
ABOUT 1t, they were clean cut, shapely-
Wen, L might almost say handsome.
My mother had said it-I was her only
chlld-over and over again, and there are
things that one learns from ones parents
that are never forgotten in after life. So
lar l was passing my examination cred
ltaDly, II not with honorS; but when
lifted the candle above my head it shone
upon wider parting than was either
. necessary Orn1mnnt9i 10
hairdresser, used TO say with a profes-
/ Slonal sniff of sympathy, "Ah sir, them
1 barrlsters' wigs do bring the air off, but
he knew as well as / did that [ did not
put my wig on twice a year, having in
deed no occasion to do so. So [ lowered
the candle hastily, and then, stepping
back few PAGES, took long look at my
sell, deciding that my moustache fairly
Cancelled the parting, and that felt hap
pier with my figure in the middle dis
tance than had in the foreground. /
have heard people call me modest; others
l know said l was dull; one or two
chiefly those whose books | had re-
vlewed-said ] was stupid, meaning by
that honest Well, well, | said to my
self, taking last look in the glass, things
might have been worse for a man who
is over for-I mean between 30 and 40.
L made up my fire and lit my pipe
again. Kate liked tobacco, l thought to
myself with a smile, or the thing would
never do. Then / began to dream again.
j es, 1 would propose to Kate. PRO
! pose!' The very word called up a host
| OF memories. l had proposed before this,
L began TO recolIect, and had been re-
! jected. Well, that too might have been
! worse. / might have been accepted, and
then l should never have seen Kate. I
shut my eyes and Travelled in memory
through strange scenes OF the past.
was at Lady Haberly's standing in the
large conservatory that leads out of the
drawing room-it must have been at least
fifteen years ago-with tail, bright girl
OF tWo-and-twenty. l could see her
! brown, honest eyes and truthful face
framed in ruddy curls floating before me.
| Had she led me on, dangling about nv
quiet paths, or had [ rushed out OF NV
native element and jumped at her OPEN
mouthed like silly trout at a well-made
! West End fly? Never mind now!
shall never forget her naughty indigna-
ton, her superb astonishment; and yet
! she was only an Earls granddaughter
| do not think | ever had a pedigree, and
know L cut very poor figure on that
| occasion III consequence. She married
wealthy American soon afterward, /
wonder what sort OF a pedigree he had!
| AS for me, / kept lock OF hair, and
wrapped it up in a newspaper cutting
| two years after her marriage, when she
was the heroine OF some sad legal pro-
ceedings that many will remember. But
! it was a cruel, ugly way of keeping the
foolish relic, and | burned it long ago,
am glad to say. [ saw her at Brighton
quite recently. Her eyes were still brown
and beautiful, still honest, perhaps, to
those who did not know her story. Why
should [ recall it? / escaped.
Then there was tiny, plump, sprightly
girl / used to meet at Aunt Harcourt's
! She was a miller's daughter. 1t sounds
romantic enough, but it was a steam
mill. and is long ago turned into a limi-
| ted-liability company. | cannot remem-
ber her name, nor the color of her ewes.
but she sang me kathleen, Mavour-
neen," and leaned on the piano looking
! into those eyes, though / have no notion
to-day what their color was. And we
danced together and sang duets. What
pathos | could throw into My plaidie to
the angry ART, I'd shelter thee.' I used
to think she felt it, so did Aunt Harcourt
who was very eager for me to .'settle
down. as she called it, and was ALWAYS
harping on the miller's daughter, and
saying, "Ah, James, what a nice little
wife she would make, to be sure!n So
| one evening when aunt had left us alone
dear, foolish old aunt-and we had
looked into the fire a long time in awk-
ward silence-I was very young then-I
suggested the ''Cauld Blast" for we had
| but one duet, and indeed very little else in
common that L can remember. But our
hands met in the search for the music.
as hands viii meet in this world. and
| then Well, well, l recollect it all in
accurate detail, except the color of her
eyes. And she was a very good, kind
little girl, and so sorry to grieve ne by
saying no, but she loved another. And
the other was the curate, and after two or
/ three years waiting they got married
| and they have ten or eleven children
now, fancy. | was heart-broken at the
time, know, but perhaps it was as well