Decorah public opinion. (Decorah, Winneshiek County [Iowa]) 1895-1928, 1900-01-17

was when we were living at Oman. Mon
Dieu. That was nearly so years ago!'
She returned to the letter:
ION the ramparts. Up to that time I
was master of my soul and of my heart.
But since the ball at the subprefecture,
when you twice accorded me the divine
favor of clasping your slender waist, l
have lost my reason, and have no peace
either day or night"
Aunt Julie turned the page.
The writing, up to this point correct
and regular, now became confusing, rum
ming in ascending lines and capriciously
showing that the writer of this anony-
nous epistle had abandoned himself to
improvisation.
Aunt Julie rubbed her spectacles. "Ah,
my poor eyes, my poor eyes" she ex-
claimed as she drew the letter nearer to
her nose.
"Ah, my dear Mile. Julie, how many
hours have / consumed in writing to
you Of the trouble into which you have
thrown my mind and my heart! But
when l have read them over | have not
been satisfied with the letters and have
destroyed them. You are so beautiful
that to write to you in BETTING man.
ner l should have the genius Of Lamar
tine. But even then should be frighten-
ed at my audacity, and l should hardly
know how to get this letter to you. But
l have found way, and pray you to
excuse the stratagem l shall employ to
reveal to you at least the secret which
depresses me. l know that tomorrow
evening you will go to the presidents
ball. l have also an invitation, and l
shall have the pleasure Of seeing your
cheeks of lily rose, your neck of alabas-
ter, your lips of coral, and doubtless /
shall again have the exquisite happiness
Of clasping your slender waist. But 1
shall find your opera cloak of rose colored
satin. To it shall confide my avowal,
and you will find it on returning home.
You see how love renders one ingenious,
since it has inspired me with this clever
idea
"a clever idea 2" said Aunt Julie, shak-
ing her head. "Ah, yes. A clever idea
to conceal a letter in pocket that /
never used instead of putting it in the
post"
She resumed her reading. The writing
became more and more confusing, and
the ink was very pale. Aunt Julie was
reduced to the necessity of spelling out
the words. This she did in thin, half
voice, whose droning sounds mingled
with the shrilling of the locusts. Thus
ran the words she deciphered:
do not be too severe on me, and think
Of the torments endure. ought to ad-
dress myself to your father or your moth
er, but as yet l dare not. Your fathers
aspect is so grave, and your mother is so
imposing. And then l have noticed that
parents prefer to marry their daughters
to man Of maturity, who has brilliant
position. AS for me, am still young, on
the threshold of my career, and l fear
that my little fortune would appear in
sufficient to one so rich as your respecta-
BILE father"
Aunt Julie paused again.
$50 rich as my fatherw she murmured.
She laid the letter on her knees, looked
into vacancy, and then suddenly was
seized with a severe chill, which, howev-
err, soon passed off, leaving her oppressed
with a confusion of visions.
$50 rich as my fatherv' she repeated.
Eyes, all the world then believed that
lie."
Aunt Julie, sinking into her armchair,
before her embroidery frame, again saw
herself, at Is years, in the midst of balls,
dinners, receptions, encircled with luxury
and without care, leading the triumph
Of youth in a happy, golden existence.
Then with the unexpectedness of thun-
derbolt came the sudden death Of her IA
ther, the revelation Of ruin adding itself
to the sObs Of mourning, the humiliating
decay which invited the duns of creditors,
the abject decay which turned everything
save a few souvenirs into money and
which called forth hypocritical compass
sion and injurious scorn and led to the
painful detection of friends. Then fol-
lowed the hard struggle against wretch
edness, which knocks at the door and in
sists on entering, the concealed and hope
less struggle, in which among all her
acquaintances Julie was known as "the
girl without a dowry." Then, at last,
came this repose, well merited but in no
wise due to her, which in her old days
she enjoyed under the hospitable roof Of
her younger brother.
But il this man, this unknown CORE
spondent, had not heard of her fathers
apocryphal fortune, or if she at the time
had discovered this letter
Aunt Julie blew her nose noisily and
again read, but with more difficulty than
before, for moisture blurred her glasses.
"But / love you, dear Mile. Julie. and
il l know that l am sustained by your
affection or by only promise l shall
be able to make good what is lacking
in my fortune. All, give me hope, and
l shall be able to move mountains! The
day after tomorrow-Thursday- D
o'clock / shall pass under your windows.
l shall wear a white carnation for bou-
tonniere, and / shall hold my cane under
my arm. / shall repass in half an hour.
II you deign to encourage my hope, place
a handkerchief over the cage of your
paroquet. Adieu until We meet, dear
Mile. Julie. Again beg you to forgive
my extreme audacity and to believe in
the love, tender and true, Of him who
styles himself for life the most respectful
and the most devoted of your admirers"
Aunt Julie folded the letter and me-
thodically placed it in the envelope. She
removed her spectacles, and. her eyes on
the ceiling where the flies were again
asleep, she searched her memory.
"Who could il have been" she said.
She buried herself in thought, but the
laborious reading had dulled her mind.
Her memory was still rebellious in spite
of her efforts.
"Who could it have been?" she repeat
ed.
Again she searched her memory.
But the shrilling of the locusts contin-
ued, obstinately monotonous, and the
golden atoms still danced in the sun
beams. sitting through the venetian
blinds. Aunt Julie felt the somnolent
cpalI 90 tho hnnr