Kate, Chapters I-III [pp. 415-428]

1859.1
who hypocritically smiling, gives her
pity for her love, to one who-oh! to a
devil —to several devils M. M r. Rwas several devils.
Considering all things, I was in a b ad
state of mind. I could not cal l my
feeling jealousy. I had no claim of any
kind on Kate- but my love seemed to
me as al caged lion. And the greater
his struggles to be free, the more severe
were the wounds he infli cted on himself,
and the stronger he felt his prison to be.
And through his bars he daily saw his
gentle loved one, wandering near with
her dreadful companion. And when the
lion would spring madly against the
bars and fall back, bruised and foaming,
she, seemingly all unconscious, would
not even cast her eyes toward him, while
the blood-thirsty Bengal R that
walked beside her, would seem to turn
his head and smile-a tiger smile.
But once or twice, I think she heard
the roar of my royal love. I almost
knew she heard it. But she never revealed that she did.
And when I believed that she knew of
his agonies and struggles, and I saw his
daily increasing" sufferings, I determined
to let my lion out.
An admirable opportunity for so doing
soon presented itself. Mr. R- - left
for the city, not expecting to return for, a
week. Such a chance was not to be
tlhrowvn away.
So it was upon the morning after the
departure of the Bengal, that I walked
down to the stables and engaged the
finest turnout in the collection —black
horse, witth a few bright lights in the
foreground, and a yellow vehicle with a
pink rug in the bottom. Perhaps it
would have been more prudent to have
asked Kate if she would ride with me,
before I engaged the equipage. But
Prudence and I were not upon good
terms-scarcely spoke. Before dinner I
mustered up courage enough to ask her
" if she would like to take a drive this
afternoon, —very fine day." Shle looked
at me, seemingly a little surpurised, hut
replied that nothing would give her
more pleasure. This I doubted, hut in
high spirits, I went up stairs directly
The sun was as bright, the fields and
woods as beautiful as a month beforebut the fashionable world said, the season
was nearly over, and I suppose the fashionable world knew, Now the only way
in which it concerned me, was this-I
had heard that Kate would leave in a
week or so. Kate would leave!
Since that memorable June morning,
we had met frequently, but had not associated very much. I believe that I was
the only young gentleman at that boarding-house, who was not supposed to be in
love with Kate. And I know that I was
the only one who really was so. As for
Mr. R, every one considered his
success as established, and those who
spoke of it, seemed to think well of it.
I knew Mr. R well-better perhaps than any one there, and he seemed
to like my society. He would often sit
on the piazza with me, after the ladies
had retired, and talk quite pleasantly
while we smoked. He talked well-in
fact, did everything well, but I did not
like him any the better for that. He
often spoke of Kate-now, what in
thought was my greatest delight, made
me absolutely nervous when he attempted to make it the subject of conversation. But I would not talk of Kateevery time he attempted to make her his
subject, I trembled lest he should find
out my secret, and I would not have had
him know-not for a planetary system.
It was very melancholy, almost distracting, for me to contemplate the relation
in which we three stood to each other. I
knew I loved Kate. I believed she loved
Mr. R, and I was almost certain
that he did not love her. I did not consider him capable of loving any one. He
was cold and very wise.
Is it strange that I should have thought
it terrible to see the one that I loved with
all my powers of loving-one in whom I
peceived all those virtues, those beauties,
and those sympathies that would have
made her the woman of all women that
I could have loved and should have loved
as long as I lived —to see her, I say, in
all her beauty and purity, voluntarily
offering herself-herself, that I loved so
perfectly, humbly offering herself to one,
Kate.
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