in order to meet him, it was
necessary for me to forsake, occasionally, the ball-room, and to
frequent, in its stead, the concert and lecture hall. By degrees I gained
his notice, and the very difficulty of winning him made the task all the
more congenial. Like you, I developed a fondness for literature, and, in
order the more quickly to gain the desired knowledge, I consulted
dictionaries, encyclopaedias, and hired private tutors to cram me with
poetry, history, and information generally of art and its manufacturers.
At first I could see he was more amused than fascinated at my shallow
acquirements. But gradually my personal charms, rather than mental,
conquered his proud reserve, and the glance of his eye came to express
more than mere amusement at my exhibitions of knowledge, or cold
admiration for the beauty I strove more than ever to heighten. If I found
him hard to conquer, the exultation when my task was achieved was
correspondingly great, while I knew his judgment rebelled against giving
his love to one his inferior in those things he best esteemed. But, to
skip a long bit of the story, we were engaged and the marriage day set;
but as our intimacy ripened, the conviction grew upon me that I should
have a master as well as husband; and I made the discovery, before very
long, that the greater part of our time was to be passed at Oaklands,
since the solitude best suited his literary tastes. I knew very well that
he would soon get absorbed in those pursuits from which I had been able
to draw him for a brief time, and then I would be compelled to satisfy
myself with the mild excitement of conjugal affection, housekeeping, and
the insipid tea-drinkings for which Cavendish has been noted. Not very
long after our engagement, I met, at a grand society ball, George Le
Grande. He professed to have fallen in love with me at first sight, and
his wooing had all the passionate ardor of a Southern nature; for he was
born in the Sunny South, his father being a wealthy French planter. After
my betrothed's somewhat Platonic love, his passionate worship was
acceptable, and, as the hour of my pastoral life at Cavendish drew near,
my fancy turned, irresistibly, towards the free, gay life Le Grande
offered me. We had grown so intimate I confessed to him my repugnance to
the mild joys awaiting me. Here I made my great mistake; for, with his
brilliant imagination, he drew charming pictures of what our life might
be, tied to no particular