PETERSON'S MAGAZINE.
KITTY PLEASANTON’'S FIRST OFFER.
BY B. W. DEwErs,
I caxxor remember the time when I was not in love with Kitty Pleasanton, It mast have begun when we were both babies. I am eure I loved her aa we sat together, by the road-side soaking our dandelion stems in the little puddles of water to make them curl; my passion was in no wise abated, when, somewhat later, I climbed oherry-trees at her bidding; nor later yet, when at dancing-echool I awkwardly made my new- learned bow, and asked her to be my partner; nor, I sm very sure, was my boyish passion at all damped, when, on my return from college, I found my sweet little Kitty, changed, by some undefinadle alteration, from a lovely child, to o Dewitching young woman. She was almost the same sa when I parted from her three years before—the woman was very like the ohild— there were the same rosy cheeks, the same pouting, imnocent mouth, the same curling hair, ‘nt some charm, grace, or sentiment was added, which made my heart thrill with new emotion as I gozed ut her.
«Ritty,” said I, to her, one day, after I had been st home a week or two, and I found I could Featrain myself no longer. Kitty, I'm very much in love with you, as you know as well as Ido. I've always been in love with you, and I fancy you with me; but now I want you to pro- mise to marry me.” 1 paused, but Kitty made no answer.
“Yon like me, Kitty? don’t you!”
«Firat tell me,” aaid Bitty, blushing, and with an odd mixture of delight and bashfulness in her face, “if you've made me what is called ‘an offer ?"”
“fo be sure L have, my darling, an offer which I trust, and hope, you'll accept.”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” said Kitty, de- murely,
«Kitty! you love me?”
“That's my secret,” the provoking little thing replied.
“But at any rate,” sho continued, “I could not possible think of secepting the very first offer I ever received—I should be mortified all the rest of my life if I did. No, indeed; no girl of spirit would dream of taking up her firet offer, ad if she were afroid she should never have another. Excuse mo, James, I ean’t pos- sible accept you till I've bad at least one other offer.”
“But, my dearest Kitty,” I began.
“Kitty! Kitty! Kitty! will yon never learn to call me by my proper name, Mr. Brent? I confess I did hope, that when I received my ‘first offer,’ the person who made it would have addressed me with proper courtesy, and in manne befitting the occasion, giving me my name of Katharine, but now you've gone and spoiled it, all"
“Ob, I suppose you wanted s stiff, ceremo- ntoue proposal in form; but {’m no Six Charles Grandison, Kitty, Katharine, I would ssy—there- fore don’t be foolish—be content to know in plain words, that my whole beart is yours; and have the good sense to accept your firet offer, since your eecond may not be 0 good.”
But vain were my arguments and ressonings. Kitty wos determined not to accept her frat offer, and finding her ‘reeolate, I ohanged my tone, sequieaced in her views, confessed that after all, I, too, had a certain pride on thet point, and should be rather mortified to know that my wife had never had sny offer but that I had myself made her; and so I promised to suspend my uit till Kitty should have been 80 fortunste a8 to receive an offer from some other quarter.
Nor there was, not far from where Kitty dwelt, favorite dell, or bower, or something of the kind,
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