Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1902-05-17
STORY OF A CORRESPONDENCE
MmY Dear Mr.. Miller-I promised

NM Dear MIR. Mlller-l promised
lWl you once-tt was quite a While
ago, to be, sure, but then it
was promiSe-that some day | would
write a letter to you. To-day seems
a good time to do it. am in very blue
spirits and decidedly irritated against
life in general. The thermometer is 10
below zero, and the avenue is filled
with racing clouds of dust. Here. in
Colorado Springs, when the wind
blows everybody quarrels with life,
and | am no exception And rs you
used TO be very bracing person to
quarrel with, the idea of writing to
you seems a happy one, even after four
years.
Il take for granted that you are still
IN Philadelphia Philadelphia is so I'M
like Colorado Springs! People live in
Philadelphia-they spend whole exist
ences there, and are buried there when
they die. Here, in Colorado Springs,
people visit; they don't live. In four
years everybody changes; ones whole
visiting list fades away like a dream,
and changes. like kaleidoscope, into
an entirely new set of acquaintances
and intimates. | have had thirteen in
innate friends in four years, and all
lost to me now forever.-is not that a
striking reminder of the transformers
of life? One is in Mexico, one in
Rome, one in a convent at Paris, two
in New York, one in India, one in
Louisville, one on the Nile, two in
Chicago, and three have died. Every
| body who does not die here goes away
| before long, to the ends of the earth
as you see. In comparison, Philadel
phia must be a place of solid and en-
during social relations. l am in the
mood to-day to envy the rooted secur
ity of a Philadelphian!
DO you remember how you used tC
laugh at my fathers investments in
mining stocks out here four years ago
Well they have turned out a stroke OF
financial genius, after all, and made
our fortune 1t is rather exciting be
ing rich-and rather dull, too. And
now, having kept my promise most
generously, to the extent of six pages
it is time to stop. | hear you echo the
sentiment--but | am, Notwithstanding
Cordially yours,
ISABEL BROWN
The young man smiled as he laid
down the letter on his desk, amid the
business papers that crowded it.
"She was bright girl" he said to
himself, but | never thought she
would write that sort Of Il letter. Too
lmpersonal. somehow. She writes a
very pretty hand. though"
Perhaps it was the four years per
spective into which the attractive ac-
quaintance of a summer at Mackinac
had receded, that gave this effect to his
mind. At any rate, he remembered her
as she was that last afternoon. when
they stood in the old fort, looking over
the houses of the picturesque, gay col
ored little town, to the blue lake water
beyond. They had not been imper-
sonal at all that day but very much
the opposite-and he had realized since,
more than at the time. how very near
he had been to being In love with her,
and how much one week more of init
macy might have meant TO them both.
How he had hoped that she would
write-though she had only smiled at
his request. and promised that some
dav she might He had not forgotten,
and he had really never liked any 9th
ar woman so we'll And now she had
written Why? Was it just one of
those lnconsisten, little impulses of
hers that he had found so charming
four wears ago-or did it mean more?
The only answer to that question. man
IfestIy. was to answer the letter at
once And though the business CORE
enondonce was attended to promptly
that day vet a summer afternoon, and
speaking pair of dark eyes, were
more in the writer's thoughts than was
al all necessary.
If was surprising after his answer
was sent, and the correspondence be
gan thus tentatively, how soon 1t grew
and throve. and Increased. Miss lsa-
bel Browns postmap. Fastening along
the wide and dusty avenues of Colo