She was an item in the individual lives of young
people of both sexes, exciting in some hearts the bitterest envy and
jealousy, and kindling the name of an all-consuming love in many
others. She had earned the palm of triumph and victory all through the
gay season, and now that the end was near she decided to gather all
those who had witnessed her conquests abroad, within her own home and
there make her retiring courtesy under peculiarly advantageous
circumstances. She was to leave in a fortnight after for an extended
tour through Europe.
It was the fifteenth of March and the Merivales' "Musical" was to
commence at eight o'clock. The wind blew fiercely through the stiff,
naked boughs of the giant maples, and drifted the light powdery snow
madly on before it. I had been in-doors all day listening to the weird
wailing of the ceaseless wind as it whistled down the chimneys and
swept past the house corners. I had written and read and stitched
until my eyes were wearied and my fingers numb, and it was only four
o'clock, that turning-point on a March day from the sunshine to the
gloaming when we women know not what to do with ourselves; when it is
too cold to go out or expect visitors, too late in the day to begin
any occupation, too dark to read with any comfort, and too early to
light the lamps. I went to the window and looked impatiently into the
street but there was no comfort to be had there; a milkman's wagon
stood over the way, his horse pawing the frozen ground while he filled
his measure with the cold white liquid.
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