Bangladeshi-Bengali.Com: Online Story. Who Was She?

She knew who was her neighbor, I plainly saw; but instead of turning

toward me, she began to fan herself in a nervous way and to fidget with

the buttons of her gloves. I grew impatient.

"Miss Danvers!" I said, at last.

"Oh!" was all her answer, as she looked at me for a moment.

"Where are your thoughts?" I asked.

Then she turned, with wide, astonished eyes, coloring softly up to the

roots of her hair. My heart gave a sudden leap.

"How can you tell, if I can not?" she asked.

"May I guess?"

She made a slight inclination of the head, saying nothing. I was then

quite sure.

"The second ravine to the left of the main drive?"

This time she actually started; her color became deeper, and a leaf of

the ivory fan snapped between her fingers.

"Let there be no more a secret!" I exclaimed. "Your flowers have

brought me your messages; I knew I should find you--"

Full of certainty, I was speaking in a low, impassioned voice. She cut

me short by rising from her seat; I felt that she was both angry and

alarmed. Fisher, of Philadelphia, jostling right and left in his haste,

made his way toward her. She fairly snatched his arm, clung to it with

a warmth I had never seen expressed in a ballroom, and began to whisper

in his ear. It was not five minutes before he came to me, alone, with a

very stern face, bent down, and said:

"If you have discovered our secret, you will keep silent. You are

certainly a gentleman."

I bowed, coldly and savagely. There was a draught from the open window;

my ankle became suddenly weary and painful, and I went to bed. Can you

believe that I didn't guess, immediately, what it all meant? In a vague

way, I fancied that I had been premature in my attempt to drop our

mutual incognito, and that Fisher, a rival lover, was jealous of me.

This was rather flattering than otherwise; but when I limped down to

the ladies' parlor, the next day, no Miss Danvers was to be seen. I did

not venture to ask for her; it might seem importunate, and a woman of

so much hidden capacity was evidently not to be wooed in the ordinary

way.

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 have been

impatient, with the usual result. I was almost prepared for this, and

thus am not wholly disappointed. In a day or two more you will discover

your mistake, which, so far as I can learn, has done no particular

harm. If you wish to find me, there is only one way to seek me; should

I tell you what it is, I should run the risk of losing you--that is, I

should preclude the manifestation of a certain quality which I hope to

find in the man who may--or, rather, must--be my friend. This sounds

enigmatical, yet you have read enough of my nature, as written in those

random notes in my sketch-book, to guess, at least, how much I require.

Only this let me add: mere guessing is useless.

"Being unknown, I can write freely. If you find me, I shall be

justified; if not, I shall hardly need to blush, even to myself, over a

futile experiment.

"It is possible for me to learn enough of your life, henceforth, to

direct my relation toward you. This may be the end; if so, I shall know

it soon. I shall also know whether you continue to seek me. Trusting in

your honor as a man, 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.