Chapter X

"It is an era strange, yet sweet,
Which every woman's heart hath known,
When first her bosom learns to beat
To the soft music of a tone;
That era, when she first begins
To know what love alone can teach,
That there are hidden depths within
Which friendship never yet could reach."

Annie Evalyn was alone in her room, a second time, sitting down to answer her friend Netta's letter. It was the first leisure she had known in several weeks, and she would hardly have commanded it now, but that Sheldon was gone to conclude an extensive land contract, into which he was entering with Lawrence Hardin; allured by flattering representations of the immense emolument sure to result from these speculations, when emigration should raise to an untold value the worth of those extensive tracts, then lying wild and uncultivated through those western countries.

Dr. Prague had also advised him to the course, regarding it as the easiest method of keeping good the fortune of Sheldon, whose choice of literature as a profession tended rather to diminish than increase his coffers. And so he embarked his all with Hardin; and all thought him sure to succeed in the enterprise, with so far-seeing and judicious a partner to counsel and direct.

We return to Annie. She had opened her portfolio, and placed before her a pure, virgin page. Twirling the enamelled top from her inkstand, and fastening a gold pen to a pearl-wrought handle, she commenced her task.

"I scarcely know what to say, dear Netta; there are so many thoughts
crowded on my brain for utterance, that I can scarcely decide what
it is best to say, and what leave unsaid. One thing I feel sure of,
that whatever is imparted in confidence, will remain safe in your
trusty bosom; and O, how blessed am I, in the possession of such a
friend! Would you were here beside me this evening, your arm clasped
tenderly about my neck, your dear, earnest eyes looking in mine.
But, alas! we are far asunder. Your sweet letter brought many vivid
pictures before my mind of the happy hours passed in that study
room, and, still further back, that childhood in the rocky cottage
of Scraggiewood. Tell aunty, I still love to call her as in my
childish days, and hope the time is not very far distant when I may
run into her arms for a hearty kissing.

"But, Netta, I know you are all eagerness to hear what I'm doing
here; how I speed on my aspiring way, and what is my progress toward
the temple of fame it was e'er my proudest wish to enter.

"Alas, Netta! I'm ashamed to say the indefatigable Annie Evalyn has
relapsed her energies, has faltered in her pursuit of glory, and
surrendered herself to the enjoyment of the passing hour. And yet I
was never so happy as now; no, never in my life. To love and to be
loved; dear sis, do you know what it is? If not, no words of mine
can tell you. Frank Sheldon has never told me his heart was mine,
but it is a poor love that needs words to express it, I fancy. He is
rich, handsome and honored; yet it is not for these I love him, but
because his tastes and feelings are in unison with mine.

"But, Netta, I have to endure some ill will, and cold looks, which
detract from my happiness. A share of that experience aunty declared
'better than books,' has been taught my hopeful nature, and often do
I think of your kind father's tender admonitions.

"Adieu, dearest; I've told my tale in brief. I need not say, guard
it well.

"You have seen some of my simple productions in the magazines, and
are pleased to think well of them, for which I thank you kindly. I'm
writing none at present. With love to all, I am,

"Truly,

"ANNIE."

The letter was folded and directed as she heard a voice in the hall calling her name. It was Sheldon's; and a bright smile irradiated her features, as, throwing aside the writing materials, she prepared to go down. He met her on the stairs.

"I couldn't find you anywhere," he said, "and the parlors were dark and cold as midnight. Where have you been and how occupied all the while I've been away winding up that tiresome contract with Hardin?"

"In my room, writing a letter to a friend," she answered, with a pleasant smile, as he was leading her through the several parlors, to fix on one exactly suited to his taste.

"Writing?" said he, reproachfully; "O, Annie!"

"Why, what of that?" she asked.

"O, nothing, I suppose; but I can't endure to think you can sit down, cold and calm, when I'm away, and indite your thoughts on paper. I can neither read, write, nor think, without you, Annie."

She blushed at these words.

"Come," he continued, drawing her close to his side; "I need not tell you I love you, Annie, for that you know already; but you can render me very happy, by speaking one little word in answer to a question I want to ask."

Still blushing and turning away her eyes, and he gazing so eloquently upon her downcast features.

"Will you speak it, Annie?"

"Let me hear the question," she said.

He inclined his head and whispered in her ear. She placed her hand in his, and he looked most happily answered as he wound his arm round her waist and pressed the little hand close to his heart.

There was a band of wandering musicians playing in the street, and he led her to the casement. She leaned lightly against his shoulder, and thus they stood there listening to the music. It was rough enough, and could hardly have pleased at any other time; but it sounded like the symphonies of angels to them now. O, what divine strains! But the melody was all in their own hearts. The screeching wheels of a dirt cart would have failed to strike a dissonance upon their ears; for all nature rolled on in linked harmony to them; they fancied they were very near heaven, and so they were; they thought they could not be much happier if they were really there, and it is doubtful if they could.

Thus wrapped in their new-found happiness, let us leave with prophetic good-night.