The New Penelope, and Other Stories and PoemsVictor, Frances Fuller
General
The New Penelope, and Other Stories and Poems
Victor, Frances Fuller
Northwest Coast of North America -- Social life and customs; Pacific Coast (U.S.) -- Social life and customs
As Mrs. Sancy pronounced the last sentence, she seemed for the moment to
have forgotten my presence, and stood, looking off over the calm grey
sea, with absent unrecognizing gaze. After a brief silence she turned to
me with a smile: "Pardon my mental desertion. It is not good to talk of
our own lives. We all become Adams again, and imagine ourselves sole in
the universe."
On this hint I changed the conversation, and we returned to the hotel to
lunch, after which, I saw no more of Mrs. Sancy for that day.
That afternoon, my correspondent, Mr. Kittredge arrived; and as it was
bright and sunny after the fog, we took a boat, and pulled along under
the alders that shade the Neah-can-a-cum. It was there that I listened
to this story:
"While I was still a young man, nearly fifteen years ago, I floated on
this stream, as we are doing to-day. My companion was a young girl whom
I shall call Teresa. She was very young, I remember now with sorrow, and
very beautiful; though _beautiful_ is not so much the word to describe
her as _charming_--magnetic, graceful, intelligent. A lithe, rather tall
figure, a high-bred, sensitive, fine face, and pleasing manners. She
seemed older than she really was, on account of her commanding physique
and distinguished manner.
"I will not go over the details of our acquaintance, which ripened
rapidly into love;--so I thought. This was a new country then, even more
emphatically that it is now; new with the charm of novelty--not new
because it had ceased to progress, as is now the case. Scattered around
here within a radius of a dozen miles were half-a-dozen other young men
like myself, who had immigrated to the far west, in the spirit of
romantic adventure; and once here, were forced to do whatever came to
our hands to gain a subsistence. I lived on a farm which I improved,
keeping house quite by myself, and spending my leisure hours in study.
Of course, the other young men, similarly situated, often visited me,
and we usually talked over authors, or such questions of the day as we
were familiar with or interested in.
"But one evening love was the theme of our conversation, and incidently,
Teresa's name was mentioned among us. I don't know who first uttered it,
but I observed at once, that the faces of all three of my companions
betrayed an interest too strong and too peculiar to be attributed to an
ordinary acquaintanceship with the subject of our remarks. For myself, I
felt my own face flushing hotly, as a horrible suspicion seized my
consciousness, becoming on the instant, conviction too painful to
endure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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