"Is there no way over the difficulty?"
"I fear not: unless you marry a rich man, and that disqualifies you under another rule." And Miss Summerson passed sadly into the outer darkness, to be replaced by a young lady who gave the name of Nell Lightfoot. She wore a charming hat and a smile like the spreading of sunshine over a crystal pool. "I met a young Scotchman," she said, "at a New Year's dance, and we were favorably impressed by each other. On the fourteenth of the following February I received from him a Valentine, containing a proposal of marriage and a revelation of the degradation of masculine nature. It would seem he had two strings to his bow—the other being a rich widow whom he had met in a Devonshire lane. Being a Scotchman he had for economy's sake composed a Valentine which with a few slight alterations would do for both of us. Unfortunately for himself he sent me the original draft by mistake and here is his
VERACIOUS VALENTINE.
Though the weather is snowy and dreary
And a shiver careers down my spine,
Yet the heart in my bosom is cheery,
For I feel I've exchanged mine for thine.
Do not call it delusion, my dearie,
But become my own loved Valentine.
For that { stormy June day you } remember,
{ New Year's dance you must }
When we { sheltered together from rain,
{ waltzed to a languorous strain,
While the sky, like the Fifth of November, }
And our souls glowed despite 'twas December }
Gleamed with lightening outrivalling P { ain. }
With a burning but glorious p { ain.}
Ah me! In my fire's dying ember
I can see that { dank Devonshire lane.
{ bright ball-room again.
And } I spoke { of the love that I } bore you,
Yet } { not then, fearing to }
And of how for a widow I } yearned,
Though for maidenly love my heart }
Not a schoolgirl { and fealty I swore you,
{ I'd gazed on before you,
And you listened till sunshine re- } turned,
Had my heart with such sweet madness }
Then { you } parted { from me who } adore you,
{ we } { but still I }
And my heart and umbrella you spurned. }
Though you may not my love have discerned, }
Not repelled by { hoarded-up } money,
{ having no }
I adore you, my { Belle, } for yourself,
{ Nell, }
You are sweeter than music or honey;
And Dan Cupid's a sensuous elf,
Who is drawn to the fair and the sunny,
And is blind unto nothing but pelf.
Need we feel a less genuine passion
Because we { shall } live in May-fair?
{ can't }
Love { blooms rich } in the hothouse of fashion,
{ oft fades }
'Tis { an orchid that flourishes there;
{ a moss-rose that needs the fresh air;
Yet I would not my own darling lass shun
Were she even as { poor } as she's { fair.
{ rich } { rare.
There are fools who adore a complexion
That's like strawberries mingled with cream. }
As with Nubian blacking a gleam }
A brunette } is my own predilection,
But a blonde }
And the glances from { dark } eyes that beam
{ blue }
Then refuse not my deathless affection,
Neither shatter my amorous dream.
You're the very first { woman } who's thrilled me
{ maiden }
With the passion that tongue cannot tell.
Of none else have I thought since you filled me
With { despair in that Devonshire dell. }
{ unrest when the waltz wove its spell. }
When your final refusal has killed me.
On my heart will be found graven { Belle.
{ Nell.
"How strange!" said Lillie. "You combine the disqualifications of two of the previous candidates. You are apparently poor and you have received only half a proposal."