So another night passed by; and then, with the morning, came a letter which made me feel, at the same instant, like a fool and a hero. It had been dropped in the Wampsocket post-office, was legibly addressed to me and delivered with some other letters which had arrived by the night mail. Here it is; listen:

"Noto Ignota!—Haste is not a gift of the gods, and you havebeen impatient, with the usual result. I was almost preparedfor this, and thus am not wholly disappointed. In a day ortwo more you will discover your mistake, which, so far as Ican learn, has done no particular harm. If you wish to find me, there is only one way to seek me; should I tell youwhat it is, I should run the risk of losing you—that is, Ishould preclude the manifestation of a certain quality whichI hope to find in the man who may—or—, rather, must—be myfriend. This sounds enigmatical, yet you have read enough ofmy nature, as written in those random notes in my sketch-book, to guess, at least, how much I require. Only this letme add: mere guessing is useless."Being unknown, I can write freely. If you find me, I shallbe justified; if not, I shall hardly need to blush, even tomyself, over a futile experiment."It is possible for me to learn enough of your life,henceforth, to direct my relation toward you. This may bethe end; if so, I shall know it soon. I shall also knowwhether you continue to seek me. Trusting in your honor as aman, I must ask you to trust in mine, as a woman."

I did discover my mistake, as the Unknown promised. There had been a secret betrothal between Fisher and Miss Danvers, and, singularly enough, the momentous question and answer had been given in the very ravine leading to my upper dell! The two meant to keep the matter to themselves; but therein, it seems, I thwarted them; there was a little opposition on the part of their respective families, but all was amicably settled before I left Wampsocket.

The letter made a very deep impression upon me. What was the one way to find her? What could it be but the triumph that follows ambitious toil—the manifestation of all my best qualities as a man? Be she old or young, plain or beautiful, I reflected, hers is surely a nature worth knowing, and its candid intelligence conceals no hazards for me. I have sought her rashly, blundered, betrayed that I set her lower, in my thoughts, than her actual self: let me now adopt the opposite course, seek her openly no longer, go back to my tasks, and, following my own aims vigorously and cheerfully, restore that respect which she seemed to be on the point of losing. For, consciously or not, she had communicated to me a doubt, implied in the very expression of her own strength and pride. She had meant to address me as an equal, yet, despite herself, took a stand a little above that which she accorded to me.

I came back to New York earlier than usual, worked steadily at my profession and with increasing success, and began to accept opportunities (which I had previously declined) of making myself personally known to the great, impressible, fickle, tyrannical public. One or two of my speeches in the hall of the Cooper Institute, on various occasions—as you may perhaps remember—gave me a good headway with the party, and were the chief cause of my nomination for the State office which I still hold. (There, on the table, lies a resignation, written to-day, but not yet signed. We'll talk of it afterward.) Several months passed by, and no further letter reached me. I gave up much of my time to society, moved familiarly in more than one province of the kingdom here, and vastly extended my acquaintance, especially among the women; but not one of them betrayed the mysterious something or other—really I can't explain precisely what it was!—which I was looking for. In fact, the more I endeavored quietly to study the sex, the more confused I became.

At last, I was subjected to the usual onslaught from the strong-minded. A small but formidable committee entered my office one morning and demanded a categorical declaration of my principles. What my views on the subject were, I knew very well; they were clear and decided; and yet, I hesitated to declare them! It wasn't a temptation of Saint Anthony—that is, turned the other way—and the belligerent attitude of the dames did not alarm me in the least; but she! What was her position? How could I best please her? It flashed upon my mind, while Mrs. ——— was making her formal speech that I had taken no step for months without a vague, secret reference to her. So I strove to be courteous, friendly, and agreeably noncommittal; begged for further documents, and promised to reply by letter in a few days.

I was hardly surprised to find the well-known hand on the envelope of a letter shortly afterward. I held it for a minute in my palm, with an absurd hope that I might sympathetically feel its character before breaking the seal. Then I read it with a great sense of relief.

"I have never assumed to guide a man, except toward the fullexercise of his powers. It is not opinion in action, butopinion in a state of idleness or indifference, which repelsme. I am deeply glad that you have gained so much since youleft the country. If, in shaping your course, you havethought of me, I will frankly say that, to that extent,you have drawn nearer. Am I mistaken in conjecturing thatyou wish to know my relation to the movement concerningwhich you were recently interrogated? In this, as in otherinstances which may come, I must beg you to consider me onlyas a spectator. The more my own views may seem likely tosway your action, the less I shall be inclined to declarethem. If you find this cold or unwomanly, remember that itis not easy!"

Yes! I felt that I had certainly drawn much nearer to her. And from this time on, her imaginary face and form became other than they were. She was twenty-eight—three years older; a very little above the middle height, but not tall; serene, rather than stately, in her movements; with a calm, almost grave face, relieved by the sweetness of the full, firm lips; and finally eyes of pure, limpid gray, such as we fancy-belonged to the Venus of Milo. I found her thus much more attractive than with the dark eyes and lashes—but she did not make her appearance in the circles which I frequented.

Another year slipped away. As an official personage, my importance increased, but I was careful not to exaggerate it to myself. Many have wondered (perhaps you among the rest) at my success, seeing that I possess no remarkable abilities. If I have any secret, it is simply this—doing faithfully, with all my might, whatever I undertake. Nine-tenths of our politicians become inflated and careless, after the first few years, and are easily forgotten when they once lose place.