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 full exercise of his powers.  It is not opinion in action, but opinion in a state of idleness or indifference, which repels me.  I am deeply glad that you have gained so much since you left the country.  If, in shaping your course, you have thought of me, I will frankly say that, to that extent, you have drawn nearer.  Am I mistaken in conjecturing that you wish to know my relation to the movement concerning which you were recently interrogated?  In this, as in other instances which may come, I must beg you to consider me only as a spectator.  The more my own views may seem likely to sway your action, the less I shall be inclined to declare them.  If you find this cold or unwomanly, remember that it is 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.