you musl
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER: OR
admit it utterly useless to argue a point founded solely upon speculation on both sides. We have not even the history of Prairie Flower to go upon, setting aside entirely that of the other party, and con sequently must come out exacll} where we started, neither of us the wiser for the dis cussion."
"Nothing more true," answered my friend, musingly. "I would to Heaven I could learn the history of Prairie Flower! Can she be an Indian?"
"I think not."
"What a perfect creature! and with a name as beautiful as her own fair self. Do you know, Frank, I "
"Well, speak out!"
"You will not ridicule me?"
"No."
"I am half in love."
"With whom?"
"Prairie Flower."
"Indeed! Well, that is nothing strange for you. I feel grateful enough to love her myself. But, Charley, you did not allow her to perceive any symptoms of your pas sion?"
"Not that I am aware of. But why do you ask?"
"Because it would offend her."
"Do you think so?"
"I am sure of it."
"And wherefore, Frank?" asked my friend, rather anxiously.
"Wherefore, Charley? Why, I believe you are in love in earnest."
"Have I not admitted it?"
"Only partially."
"Then I acknowledge it fully."
"But how about the unknown?"
"I am in love with her too."
"Ay, and with every pretty face you meet. But surely you are not serious in this matter?"
"I fear I am," sighed Huntly.
"But you cannot love either much, when you acknowledge to loving both."
"You forget the resemblance between the two. I could love any being methinks, in the absence of the unknown, who bore her likeness."
"But, for heaven's sake, Charley, do not let Prairie Flower know of this! for it would omy be to make her avoid us and per haps result in unpleasant Consequences."
"And yet, Frank, at the risk of beiag | thought egotistical, I must own I have rea sons for thinking my passion returned."
"Returned, say you? Why, are yon dreaming?"
"No, in my sober senses."
"And what reasons, I pray?"
"Her manner toward me wheneverm meet, and whenever I speak to her. Sure ly you must have noticed her embarrass ment and change of countenance when 1 addressed her last, ere her hasty depar ture."
"I did but attributed it, as I told you then, to a dislike of flattery or praise to the face."
"I formed a different opinion."
"Why then did you ask me the cause of her leaving so abruptly?"
"Merely to see if you suspicioned the same as I that, if so, my own fancies might have the surer foundation. Often when she thought herself unnoticed, have I, by turning suddenly upon her, caught her soft, dark eye fixed earnestly upon me, with an expression of deep, quiet, melan choly tenderness, which I could not account for, other than an affectionate regard for myself; and the more so, that when my eye caught hers, she ever turned her gass away, blushed, and seemed much confused. It was this which first divided my thoughts between herself and you, and awakened in my breast a feeling of sympathy and affec tion for her in return."
"You may be right," I answered, as I recalled her strange manner of the day previous, when I spoke to her of my friend and I proceeded to detail it to Huntly 4 "But I am truly sorry it is so," I added, in conclusion.
"Why so, Frank?"
"Because it will only render her unhap py for life."
"What! if I "
"Well, say on! If you what, Char ley?"
"I was going to add a marry her," he replied in some confusion.
"Marry her? Are you mad, Huntly?"
"Only a little deranged."
"Not a little, either, if one may judge by such a remark. Why, my friend, you talk of marrying as if it were the most tri fling thing in the world. You ca
