Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Benton County, Or.) 1900-1909, 1902-05-02
STORY OF ACORRESPONDENCE

N0Y Dear Mr.. Miller-I promised
Mnl you once-it was quite while
ooS ago, to be sure, but then 1t
was a 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 filed
with racing clouds of dust. Here, in
Colorado Springs, when the wind
blows, everybody quarrels with life,
and | am no exception. And as you
used to be a very bracing person to
quarrel with, the idea Of writing to
you seems happy one. even after four
years.
Il take for granted that you are still
in Philadelphia. Philadelphia is so un-
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 dream,
and changes, like a 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 Philadelphian!
DO you remember how you used to
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 1t.
she was bright girl" he said to
himself, but l never thought she
would write that sort of letter. Too
impersonal. 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 inti-
macy might have meant to them both
How he had hoped that she would
write-though she lad only smiled at
his request, and promised that some
day she might He had not forgotten,
and he had really never liked any 9th
rr woman so we'll. And now she had
written. Why? Was 1t just one of
those inconsistent little impulses of
hers that he had found so charming
four years ago-or did it mean more
The only answer to that question, man
ifestly, was to answer the letter at
once. And though the business CORE
spondence was attended to promptly
that day. yet a summer afternoon, and
speaking pair of dark eyes, were
more In the writer's thoughts than was
at all necessary.
1t was surprising, after his answer
was sent, and the correspondence be-
gan thus tentatively, how soon 1t grew
and throve, and increased. Miss Isa-
bel Browns postman. Fastening along
the wide and dusty avenues Of Colo
rado Springs, brought at shorter and
shorter intervals, longer and longer
letters from Philadelphia; while Mr..
George W. Miller's disk in the large
city offices of that wealthy firm of
which he was Junior partner was never
long without specimen Of Miss
Browns handwriting. 1t was a reve-
lation, at both ends of the line, how
much one could put on paper for a
sympathetic reader. and how intimate
a knowledge one gains of special cor
respondent. from week to week. Mr.
Miller soon learned that he had never
really known girl before-that is,
never understood ore-and that Miss
Browns tastes. Miss Browns indi
viduality. exactly and continually sat
isfied and delighted him; while Miss
Brown felt that she rever could have
believed that George Miller could de
velop such attractive traits and such a
thoroughly congenial set of ideas and
aspirations. They were a revelation tc
each otErr-firSt a monthly. then &
weekly. then almost a daily, revelation
1t matters not how often such a dis
covery is made, in each new case 1t is
equally astonishing and suggestive, and
leads inevitably to the further discov-