Year: 1873

am an old bachelor At sixth-five /
can say shall never be anything else
while / live but, like all other men
all / have ever met, at least-I have
loved, and hoped to be happy with my
chosen bride.


That passion; those hopes, faded forty
years ago Since then | have done pen
ance for the hasty act of one night |
have Stunned the society of woman,
and forbade myself the shadow of a
hope that might patch my tatered joys
with new ones


To none who know me have | ever
told the tale. | should have been es-
teemed liar, or a madman, and no one
would willingly accept such reputation.
To you, unknown reader, | dare to
recite the events of those four and
twenty hours-events which turned my
life into its now well-worn channel, and
made me the lonely, hopeless man | am


At the age os twenty-four / was a
clerk in the establishment of Messrs.
Carp & Cavil, lawyers. | had energy
and ambition, health and opportunity
everything, in fact, that could be wished
for by a man who hoped to fight his
way up in the world, and win health and
reputation.


j was engaged to a young lady by the
name of Grace Hunter, a pretty, deli
cate creature, so quiet that her pet name,
Snowflake, seemed the only one suitable
for her. Her step was noiseless: her
movements soft; her voice sweet and
low. She never herself entertained a
large company by her conversation, or
did any of those things that give a
woman the reputation for brilliancy /;
but her mental powers were very fine,
and in tete-G-tete she was enchanting.
A lady to the hearts core, in my eyes at
least, a perfect beauty, she might yet
have been forgotten by most men in a
room full of giggling, chatting girls.


l adored her / had felt that her love
| was a Jewel worthy of an emperor's
wearing, and l had scarcely dared to
utter the words that told her all / felt.
Even now her high-bred reserve kept
me at a little distance. was proud of
her. / felt unworthy of her. She was
at once the saint whom / revered, and
the being whom it was to be my delight
to cherish and protect until death should
part us.


Six months had passed since she had
promised to be mine. At the end of six
more, she was to give me her hand.
had a small salary, but my grandmother
had left me a legacy which would enable
us to go housekeeping in plain but COM
Portable style, and Grace was willing to
fight lIfe's battles by my side.


Life seemed bright and joyous to me
on that night of mid-winter, forty years
ago, when / walked through the city
streets with Grace upon my arm, and
looking down at her in her white wrap
pings, with CLEANS of frosty starlight
touching her black hair, wondered if the
angels were fsirer than she was.


We were going to spend the evening
at mutual friends residence. There
was to be music and dancing and cards
and sociable supper | went because
Grace desired to go.


Her sole society at her own home was
more delightful to me than any othel
company; but / was young and light o.
heart, and when l had once entered thu
lighted parlors | did not sit silent in tn
corner.


I talked l sang; turned the musi
for musical ladies; | walked through tn
Lancers. At last l found myself flirt
ing with one of the female guests.


There are women a man is obliged t
flirt with. He does not admire them
respect them, or love them one whit; b
. does not even desire their society; bu
he must be more than man ere he ca
refuse to respond to their advances. On
of these women, know now, havin
played the looker-on for so many years
can make any man appear to other We
men desperately in love with her, Will
he almost detests her. A woman OF tn
) kind was among the company. She ha
: hands that delighted in soft touches c
hands masculine: eyes that could cas-


glances bright and enchanting. She POI