Anonymous - The loves of a musical student

Dearest Elizabeth,

Pardon this familiar manner of addressing you, for the first and last time, as you are no longer a stranger to the sentiments that fill my breast, as far as regards yourself. 'Tis now useless to dissemble; I have long struggled with the presumptuous passion I lately, in an unguarded moment, had the temerity to shock your modest ears by declaring; and finding that it is impossible for me to live without you, while my delighted eyes gaze on you every day, I have, after a painful struggle, determined to withdraw myself forever from your sight. I leave town this day for the purpose of procuring a lodging distant from you, but will return in a few days in order to settle my account with Mr.

E., to whom I will give a satisfactory reason for quitting his house so abruptly. Beloved of my heart, farewell forever! — and that you may never experience the pangs of unrequited and hopeless love, will be the constant prayer of Your despairing lover.

After an absence of two days I returned, and ringing for the girl, she immediately attended. In answer to my inquiries as to the health of her mistress, she informed me that she had been much worse, and had not left her chamber during the time I had been away. I interpreted this in my own favour, and must own that for a moment I felt happy, and rejoiced at the misery of one whom, under any other circumstances, I would have given my life to relieve.

For reasons that will no doubt appear obvious, I detained the girl for an hour to assist me in packing up my trunks and portmanteau, and then sent her to inquire at what hour I could see Mr. E. that evening, as everything was now ready for my removal. In rather less than half an hour she returned, and never was the sweetest music half so grateful to my ears as the harsh, croaking voice that uttered the following words:

"Missus's compliments, sir, and if not very inconvenient, will you put off moving till tomorrow, she has something particular to say and hopes by tomorrow she may be well enough to see you."

After rewarding the girl much beyond her expectations for the trouble I had given her, I despatched her with an answer, that I felt great pleasure in having it in my power to oblige Mrs. E. and should anxiously await her commands the following morning.

I now felt assured of success; my plot had exceeded my most sanguine expectations; my heart was swelling with triumphant pleasure. I sought a neighbouring tavern and tossed off bumper after bumper to the god of love and soft desires.

The morning came at last. I arose with the lark, descended to the garden, and as I walked the minutes seemed as hours to my impatient soul. At length I heard my charmer's door unclose, and after waiting a short time, for the purpose of sparing her the embarrassment of sending to me, I crossed the passage as if to open the street door; to accomplish this the parlour must be passed, and as I reached the half-closed door I beheld my Bessy, pale as a lily newly plucked; but as my footsteps broke upon her ear a sudden flush that shamed the famed carnation's burning tints coloured her lovely cheeks. I paused for a moment to survey her charms, while my proud heart exultingly whispered, "They soon will be your own!"

I was about to speak, when the words "Good morning, sir," tremblingly escaped from her half-opened lips. I hastened to receive her proffered hand, which having kissed respectfully I took a chair and seated myself by her side. An embarrassing silence of some minutes' duration ensued. At length I spoke. "And is this meeting, then, to be our last?"

She turned her head aside to hide the tears, which in spite of her efforts now quickly pursued each other down her blushing cheeks; I would have clasped her in my arms and kissed the pearly drops away, but she repulsed me in a manner at once gentle though determined.

I repeated, "And is this meeting, then, to be our last?"

"That depends wholly on yourself," she mildly answered.

"On me! Explain, for well you know that to be for ever in your loved society is what on earth I most desire."

I fixed my eyes upon her face, as though I sought to read her inmost thoughts, as thus she answered me:

"After what has passed between us, it would be folly in the extreme were I to appear any longer ignorant of the nature of your attentions, and I fear that my own weakness has already but too plainly betrayed the interest you have created in my heart. Yes, I will deal frankly with you, and acknowledge that I love you; that were I now at liberty to choose, you are the husband I would select in the face of the whole world. Alas! had we but met a few years sooner, or never met at all! If you really love me as you profess, you will not seek to plunge me into infamy; continue with me then, regard me as a sister, but seek not to take advantage of my tenderness-of my candour; for I most solemnly declare that should my unhappy feelings lead me into any act that would degrade me in my own estimation, by this hand would I find a speedy death. Yes, sooner would I become a suicide than live in infamy."

Should I attempt to commit to paper the whole of that day's conversation, it would not only occupy a large portion of space, but also prove uninteresting to the reader; let it suffice that I suffered myself to be persuaded that nothing could be more easy than for two persons of different sexes, who loved each other to excess, to live in the same house, indulge in discourses of love and friendship, and exchange kisses that were perfectly innocent in themselves, without desiring aught that could raise a blush upon the cheek of the most rigid observer of the celebrated platonic rules so highly spoken of in the writings of the ancients and so justly admired by our venerable forefathers.

Previous to our parting, I obtained her solemn promise that in the event of anything occurring to her husband, by which she would be at liberty to wed again, that she would dispense with the dull formalities of conventional usage in remaining single for twelve tedious months and, by a private marriage, crown me with immediate happiness.

As may naturally be supposed, after such an understanding, she became less reserved on each succeeding day and would occasionally permit trifling liberties that would but a few days previous have given alarm to her feelings; she would even trust herself upon my knee, and as I described the violence of my passion, dissolved in tears she sometimes threw her arms around my neck and pressing her lips to mine would reward my long forbearance with a kiss, which instead of soothing inflamed the faint sparks of chaste affection into the fierce and raging flames of wild desire. Encouraged by these proofs of her regard, I did at times indulge in the vain hope that her virtue was about to go to sleep and ventured cautiously, by imperceptible degrees, to gain the precincts of her snowy bosom; when, instantly aroused to a sense of her danger, she would rush from my embrace and with a look that froze my very soul, demand if thus I meant to prove my love?

On these occasions, however, upon a promise to be cautious how I ventured to offend again, she seldom withheld her forgiveness long; still would there exist for several days an appearance of distrust, a want of confidence, in fact a coolness perfectly disagreeable to a man of my ardent nature; and at length, almost despairing of ever being enabled to accomplish my object and unable longer to endure the pangs of unrequited love, I determined to change my plan of attack and, should I fail, to fly from her dangerous presence and seek repose in absence.

I had received undoubted proofs that she sincerely loved me, and in proportion to that love's increase so did her contempt for her unworthy husband; nothing in fact but her innate horror of doing wrong prevented the consummation of my happiness. Confident of this, I now resolved to invoke the aid of the "green-eyed monster, jealousy," and fortune shortly favoured my intent.