The Valley Virginian. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1865-1895, 1892-07-07
MY LAST PROPOSAL.
From the Cornhill Magazine:

-slivering on the brink of another pro
| posal. | had just come home to N.
rooms in Kings Bench Walk after dinin.
at the Barndores. OF course | bad me
| little Mrs. Winterton there; of course
| had taken her to dinner-the world W,
both lived in was always bringing us to
| gether III HAT sort of way-and equal,
OF course, | WAS soon dreaming over TIL,
fire of her slim, taut little figure in it,
dainty black silk setting. l had always
| liked the name of Kate, | thought; i
was homely, comfortable, and yet MOI
common place. Yes, it would do very
| well. Neither had l any narrow minded
| aversion to widows | felt that if Mrs
| Winterton, who had tried the holy state
Of matrimony once, cared to try it again
it was scarcely for me, who had no 'ex
perience, to raise objections. I had al
ways regarded Weller the elder as dull
man of blunted sentiments, who somes
what deserved his fate. The eXigencles
of his profession, too, were not calcu>
lated to promote connubial bliss. In
legal slang, his case was not on "all
tours" with mine, and | knew that Mrs.
Winterton and [ could easily refute what
one may call the Wellerian fallacy, if we
wished to do So But didwe wish to? and
why should we wish to? These were the
questions troubling my mind at this
moment
was too old to pretend to mad, des-
pairing passion, Kate was too sensible.
But we were both almost alone in the
world, and this, 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 hundred times
with caring for that, and always ac~
quilted myself honorably with cheers in
court. did not lack money; my wants
were few, and l could supply them with
out painful or anxious labor. No; / was
in love with Kate Winterton, that was
the fact, let me face it bravely.
Lighting a candle, for the shaded lamp
was insufficient for my purpose, | rose
and looked in the mirror over the man
tel-piece The candle made the worst of
things, | thought; it seemed to bring
out all of the lines in my face, and there
certainly were good many firmly etched
on my forehead. But where is the harm
in a few lines in mans face? They
give it character. And when I looked
at my features, there was no doubt about
it, they were clean-cut, shapely-well,
might almost say = handsome. Ny
mother had said i'll was her only child
over and over again, and there are
things that one learns from ones par
ents that are never forgotten in after
life. So far | was passing my examina-
tion creditably, il not with honors; but
when / lifted the candle above my head
it shone upon wider parting than was
either necessary or ornamental. Jack
SOD. the hair-aresser, used to say with a
professional sniff of sympathy, "Ah, sir,
them barristers' wigs do bring the 'air
off," but he knew as well as I did that |
did not put on my wig twice year, hay
ing indeed no occasion to do SO. So 1
lowered the candle hastily, and them
stepping back q few PAGES, took long
look at myself, deciding that my mus
tache fairly cancelled the parting, and
that felt happier with my figure in the
middle distance than | had in the fore
ground, have heard people call ne
modest; others / know said I was dull;
one or two-chiefly those whose books |
had reviewed-said | was stupid, means
ing by that honest. Well, we'll, I said to
myself, taking last look in the glass,
things might have been worse for man
who is over for | mean betweed thirty
and forty.
made up my fire and lit my pipe
myself with smile or the thing would
never do. Then began to dream again.
Yes, l would propose to Kate. PRO
pose.n The very word called up host
Of memories. Ihad proposed before this,
began to recollect, and had been re-
iected Well, that too might have been
worse. I might have been accepted, and
then | should never have seen Kate. I
shut my eyes and travelled in memory
through strange scenes of the past. |
was at Lady Haberlys, standing in the
large conservatory that leads out of the
drawing -room-it must have been at
least fifteen years ago-with tall, bright
girl of two and twenty | could see her
brown, honest eyes and truthful face
framed in ruddy curls floating before me.
Had she led me on, dangling about my
quiet paths, or had l rushed out of my
native element and jumped at her open.
mouthed like silly trout at well-made
West-end fly? Never mind now. l shall
never forget her naughty Indignation,
her superb astonishment, and yet she
was only an earl's grand daughter.
don't think / ever had pedigree, and
know l cut a very poor figure on that
occasion in consequence. She married a
wealthy American soon afterwards. I
wonder what sort of q pedigree he had |!
AS for me, | kept lock OF her hair, and
wrapped it up in newspaper cutting
two years after her marriage, when she
was the heroine of some sad legal pros
ceedings that many will remember. But
it was cruel, ugly way of keeping the
foolish relic, and burn. it long ago,
am glad to say. | saw her at Brighton
quite recently Here 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 a tiny plump, sprightly
Girl | used to meet at Aunt Harcourts.
She was the miller's daughter. 1t sounds
romantic enough, but it was a steam
mill, and is long ago turned into lin
tied liability company. | cannot re-
member her name nor the color of her
eyes, but she sang me Kathleen, Ma
yourneen.n and / leaned on the piano
looking into those eyes, though have
no notion today what their color was
And we danced together and sang duets.
What pathos | could throw into my
plaidle to the angry ART, I'd shelter