Year: 1873

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


That passion, and those hopes, faded
forty years ago. Since then 1 have done
Penance for the hasty act of one night
have summed the society of women,
and forbade myself the shadow of hope
that L might patch my shattered joys
with lew ones.


To none who know me have I ever
told the tale. I should have been es-
teemed liar, or mailman, and no one
would willingly accept such a reputa-
tlon. To you, unknown reader, l dare
recite the events of those four and twen-
ty hours-events which turned my life
into its now well-worn channel, and
made me the lonely, hopeless man 1
am.


At the age of twenty-four was clerk
In the establishment of Messrs. Carp &
Cavil, lawyers. had energy and am
bition, health and opportunity-every-
thing, in fact, that could be wished for
by man who hoped to fight his way up
in the world and win wealth and repu-
tation.


l was engaged to young lady by the
name Of Grace Hunter, q pretty, deli
cate creature, so quiet that her pet
name, Snowflake, seemed to be the only
one suitable for her. Her step was
noiseless, her movements soft, her voice
sweet and low. She never herself en-
tertained large company by her con-
versation, nor did any of those things
that give woman reputation for bril-
liancy but her mental powers were
very fine, and in a tete-a-tete she was
enchanting. A lady to the hearts core,
in my eyes, at least, q perfect beauty,
she might yet have been forgotten by
most meR in a room full of giggling,
chatting girls.


Iadored her. 1 had felt that herlove
was jewel worthy of an emperor's wear
ing, and 1 scarcely dared to utter the
words that told her all I felt. Even now
her high bred reserve kept me at n dis
tance. was proud of her. 1 felt un-
worthy of her. She was at once the
saint whom 1 revered, and the being
whom it was to be my delight to cher
ish 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. 1
had small salary, but my grandmother
had left me q legacy which would en-
able me to go to housekeeping in plain
but comfortable style, and Grace was
willing to fight life's battles by my
side.


Life seemed bright and joyous to me
on that night of midwinter, forty years
ago, when I 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 ii the
angels were fairer 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 other
company; but was young and light of
heart, and when I had once entered the
lighted parlors did not sit silent in the
corner.


I talked ; I sang; turned the music
for musical ladies; 1 walked through
the Lancers. At last I found myself
flirting with one of the female guests.


There are women man is obliged to
flirt with. He does not admire them,
respect them, or love them one whit |;
he does not even desire their society |;
but he must be more than man ere he
can refuse to respond to their advances.
One of these women know now, having
played the looker-on for so many years,
can make any man appear to other wo-
men desperately in love with her, while
he almost detests her. A woman Of
that kind was among the company. She
had hands that delighted in soft touches
of hands masculine eyes that could
cast glances bright and enhancing.
She possessed attraction rather than
beauty. What she said was nothing