“Thank God, Kate,” I said, “for your sake and mine!”
“Can you spare me, after you are well again, Charlie,—if he”—
“Am I a monster of selfishness and ingratitude?”
She kissed me, took up her work, and sat down to sew.
“ Kate!” said I, amazed, “what are you doing? Why don’t you go down?”
“What for? To hunt him up at the bar-keeper’s desk? or in the stables, perhaps?”
“Oh! Ah! Propriety,—yes! But how you can sit there and wait I cannot conceive.”
There came a knock. I expected her to start up in rapture and admit Mr. Walter ———. She only said, “Come in!”——calmly.*
Alice peeped in, and asked, “May he come? ”
“Where is he?” I asked.
“In the parlor, waiting to know.”
“Yes,” said Kate, changing color rapidly.
“Stop, stop, Alice! You two give me each a hand, and help me into my room.”
“Charlie,” said Kate, “you need not go! you must not go!”
“Ah, my dear sister, I have stood between you and him long enough. I will do to him as I would be done by. Come, girls, your hands! ”
They placed me in my easy-chair, both kissed me with agitated lips, and left me. Half an hour afterwards Kate and Mr. Template:Dash petitioned for admittance to my room. Of course I granted it, and immediately proceeded to a minute scrutiny of my future brother-in-law. He is a fine fellow, very scientific, clear in thought, decisive in action, quite reserved, and very good-looking. This reserve is to Kate his strongest attraction, — her own nature being so entirely destitute of it, and she so painfully conscious of her want of self-control. Yes,—he is just the one Kate would most respect, of all the men I ever saw.
Is not this happiness, — to find her future not wrecked, but blessed doubly?
or her conduct has made Walter almost worship her. I am happy to think I have brought her good, rather than ill; but—selfish being that I am—I am not contented. I have a sigh in my heart yet!
Bosky Dell. December.
How it happened that this letter did not go I cannot imagine. I have just found it in Kate’s work-basket; and I open it again, to add the grand climax. I have been so very minute in my accounts of Kate’s love-affairs, that I feel it would not be fair to slur over mine. So, dear friend, I open my heart to you in the wise.
The rage for recovery which took such violent possession of me I believe effected my cure. In a month from the time I began to walk, I could go alone, without even a cane. Kate entreated me to remain as long as possible in the mountains, as she believed my recovery was attributable to the pure air and healing waters. It was consequently the first of this month before we arrived at her cottage, where we found good old Saide so much “ frustrated” by delight as to be quite unable to “fly roun’.” Indeed, she could hardly stand. When I walked up to shake hands with her, she. bashfully looked at me out of the “ tail of her eye,” as Ben says. Her delicacy was quite shocked by my size!
“Saide,” said I, “you positively look pale!” She really did. You have seen negroes do so, haven’t you?
“Laws, Missr Charles,” she answered, with a coquettish and deprecating twist, “call dat ’ere stove pale,—will yer?”
No sooner was Kate established at home, and I in my Walnut-Street office, than I undertook a trip to Boston. As I approached Miss Winston’s home, all my courage left me. I walked up and down the Common, in sight of her door, for hours, thinking what a witless fool I was, to contemplate presenting my penniless self—with hope—before the millionnaire’s daughter!
At last Mr. Winston came home to
