multitude, which increased
to frenzy when I once more showed myself.

My white hat was on; the feather floated out in the air like a banner.
In my hand I held a fan. In the fervor of my emotion I pressed it
against my bosom. The people saw it, and the storm of applause that
burst from them fairly took me off my feet. Emotion overcame me; I
retired from that long stoop.

Cousin E. E. followed me. She hasn't been herself since the
camp-meeting; and when I asked her if it was not a beautiful ovation,
she shook her head and answered, that all flesh was grass, which I don't
believe any more than I believe that grass is flesh, which I know is not
the fact, each being itself independent grass and independent flesh.

"Well," says I, "call it grass, or anything you please, but wasn't the
whole thing perfectly gorgeous."

"Yes," says she, "it was a pretty compliment to the ladies of the
hotel."

Sisters, that jealous, provoking woman said "ladies of the hotel," not
"the lady of the hotel." She is an aggravating creature, sometimes; I do
believe she is jealous of the homage which is lavished on your
missionary. At any rate speeches like this look like it. Don't you think
so?

I said nothing. A tart reply trembled on my tongue, but the atmosphere
of that camp-meeting still clung to me, and I forbore to rebuke her.

Sisters, I was too lenient; somehow or other E. E. has spread her
selfish idea through this hotel. The ladies were all carried away by the
fireworks--no, excuse me, that would be dangerous to such as had tindery
tempers, but they could talk of nothing else, and made a great fuss
about the compliment paid to them. To them--as if any man who has an
appreciative soul would think of diffusing a compliment among a crowd of
ten thousand people; but the vanity and presumption of some females are
just disgusting. But for the secret consciousness that no one could have
been intended but myself, their conceit would provoke me. As it is, let
them have their conceity illusions. Others may think what they please,
but I have an inner consciousness that is satisfaction enough.

LXXXVIII.

LET HIM GO.

Dear sisters:--You know, or can guess, at the anxious state of mind in
which a sensitive female-woman must have found her experiences since the
great Grand Duke left this country. I am told that the Imperial Court of
Russia is hard to please in the way of marrying its sons--that nobility
is not considered enough, and