Godey's Lady's Book

GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK
Philadelphia, February 1850

KATE'S VALENTINE.

BY HARRY SUNDERLAND.

KATE, my sprightly niece, like most young ladies of her age, has her own opinions on matters and things currently transpiring. She thinks independently, and generally speaks what she thinks. Of course, her knowledge of human nature is not very deep; nor is she as wise in all her conclusions as she is led to imagine. I do not say this disparagingly, for Kate has quite as good sense as nine in ten who have only numbered her years, which are about twenty-one.

On one subject, Kate had, for a year or two, been particularly decided in her expressions. The Valentine epidemic, which has raged so violently, she considered a social disease emphatically. It was no healthy manifestation of right feelings, in her estimation.

As last St. Valentine's day approached, and the store windows and counters began to be filled with emblematic love missives of all kinds, from the most costly, delicate, and refined, down to the cheapest, coarsest, and most vulgar, Kate exhibited more and more strongly her antipathy to the custom about to be honored.

" If any one were to send me a Valentine," said she, "I would take it as a direct insult to my common sense."

"Oh, as for that," I replied, sportively, "lovers are not so silly as to address the common sense of those whose favor they desire to win."

"Whoever wins me," was her prompt answer, " must appeal to that. At no other point will I be accessible."

" We shall see."

" And we will see."

"I'll wager s new hat against a spring bonnet," said I, " that you receive a Valentine this year from a certain young man named – Never mind; don't blush so; I won't name him."

"I would discard any one who insulted me with a Valentine," replied Kate, indignantly.

"Don't say that, for fear you will have cause to repent the indiscretion."

"Yes, I do say it. No man of good sense would stoop to such trifling."

" I don't know, Kate. A little trifling, now and then, is relished by the best of men."

"That's rhyme, which does not always go hand in bend with reason."

" You'll grow wiser, Kate, as you grow older."

"If that is the kind of wisdom age brings, I'm sure I don't want it."

I answered with a laugh, for to be grave on such a theme was not in me. As the fourteenth approached, Kate frequently repeated her expressions of disgust at the silly custom of sending Valentines that had become so popular, and declared, over and over again, that such a liberty with her would be taken as a direct insult, and resented accordingly.

Among the visiting acquaintances of Kate, was a young man named Loring, for whom, I could see, she had kinder feelings than for any other male friend; but, either in consequence of a natural reserve of character, or because he was in doubt as to Kate's sentiments regarding himself, he never seemed perfectly at ease in her company, though he sought it on every proper occasion. I had him in my mind when I suggested the reception of a Valentine from a certain young man, and Kate understood me perfectly.

Well, Valentine's day came round. At dinner-time, I came home as usual, and almost the first word my wife said to me was –

" What do you think? Kate's received a Valentine."

" Indeed!"

" It's true. It came by the Dispatch Post. I received it at the door, and sent it up to her room."

"Have you seen her since?"

" No."

"Of course, she's particularly indignant."

"I don't know anything about that. It was a handsome one, I infer, from the size and envelop; and had in it something hard, which I took for jewelry – a breastpin or a bracelet."

"Where do you think it came from?" said I.

"I've guessed young Loring," answered my wife.

" If he has sent it, he has committed a great mistake," I replied.

"How so?"

" You know Kate's antipathy to Valentines."

"Young ladies often talk a great deal without really knowing what they say; and Kate is not altogether free from the fault," said my wife.

I readily enough assented to this, When the bell rung for dinner, Kate came down from her room. Her face was rather more sober than usual, and she did not join in the conversation with her accustomed animation. She was first to retire from the table.

" I don't think she is mortally offended," said I to my wife.

"No, not if I am skilled in mental indications," was replied.

During the afternoon, two or three more love missives came; but not a word touching their reception, or the feelings produced thereby, was breathed by Kate. It was plain, however, to one with even half an eye, that she was pleased at the mark of attention, or, it might be, token of love. Evening, instead of being passed as usual with the family, was spent by Kate in her room.

On the next morning, at the breakfast-table, I mentioned the fact that a certain number of Valentines had passed through the post-office on the day before. This was in order to introduce the subject, and call out some remark from Kate; but she remained silent on the subject, though not without indicating, by her heightened color and restless eye, that her thoughts were busy enough.

"I rather think our young lady has changed her opinions," said I, smiling, after Kate had left the table.

" Circumstances alter cases, you l now," replied my wife, smiling in turn.

On the next evening, young Loring called in. Kate was longer than usual in making her appearance, and when she came into the parlor, was dressed with more than ordinary care. For the first time, I noticed on her wrist a new and beautiful bracelet. She blushed, slightly, as she met Loring; seemed a little embarrassed, but was soon conversing with him in an animated style.

" Did you see that new bracelet?" asked my wife, when we were next alone.

" I did."

" Where did it come from?"

"Didn't you say that in one of the Valentines she received there was something hard, like a piece of jewelry?"

"Yes."

"That bracelet, probably."

"No doubt of it."

" And, moreover," said I, "it is plain that she believes the Valentine came from Loring; for, at her first meeting with him, she wears it for the first time."

"Thus," remarked my wife, "notifying him that she receives the token kindly."

I laughed aloud, for I could not help it.

" Why do you laugh '?" asked my wife.

" She was going to discard any one who insulted her with a Valentine!"

" That was idle talk. I've heard such things said before."

Two or three evenings went by, and Loring came again. Since his former visit, the new bracelet had not been seen. Now it was worn again. As we knew the young man well, and liked him the better the more intimately we knew him, we saw no impropriety in leaving the young couple alone in the parlor.

From that time, there was a marked change in my niece. She was less sprightly and more absent-minded than usual. Next, her appetite failed her, and she began to grow thin and lose her color – sure signs of a heart disease. Meanwhile, Loring was a constant visitor; and whenever he came, the bracelet was displayed, evidently in token that she knew from whence it came, and wished its full acceptance to be understood. At last, I received a formal visit from the young man, and a formal offer for the hand of Kate. Of course, I had no objections to urge. That matter was, in my mind, already fully settled.

After-that, the bracelet aforementioned was always to be seen on the arm of Kate. One evening, it was about a month before her wedding-day, as I sat talking with Kate, for whom my affection had always been as tender as that of a father for his child, I took her hand, and said, as I examined the bracelet –

"That is very beautiful."

" Yes, I have always admired it very much," she replied, the color growing warmer in her cheeks.

"A love-token, I presume?"

And as I said this, I looked at her archly. The hue of her cheeks became still deeper.

"A Valentine?" I added.

The blood mounted to her temples.

" But it was 'not an ordinary Valentine. It did not come from a trifler, and was not received as an insult. I thought you were not the girl, Kate, to reject a sincere offer."

Kate blushed still more deeply,

" This little love-token, dear Kate, is for thee: Accept it, and keep it, and wear it for me." As I repeated this couplet, the young girl started with surprise, and looked with inquiring earnestness in my face.

"But I'm afraid, Kate," said I, with a meaning smile, and a voice half-regretful in its tone, "that you wore it less for the real than for an imaginary giver."

She did not reply, but looked at me more earnestly, while a sudden light appeared to break upon her mind.

"Dear uncle," said she, at length, bending towards me, " had you seen this bracelet before you saw it on my arm?"

"Yes, love," was my tenderly spoken reply; and I pressed her pure forehead with my lips as I spoke.

"And you sent it?"

She seemed half breathless as she awaited my reply.

" Yes, dear."

She covered her face suddenly with her hands, and sat motionless for some moments. In a little while, I saw a tear come stealing through her fingers. My feelings were touched, for I feared lest I had done violence to hers by this little confession of the truth. But, ere I had looked for composure of mind, she withdrew her hands from her face, on which an affectionate smile shone like a rainbow amid the parting drops of a summer shower, and said, as she arose –

" Henceforth, I will wear it for the real giver."

Bending to kiss me, she left a tear on my cheek, and then glided from the room.

On her wedding night, Kate wore her Valentine bracelet; and I am weak enough to believe – if the sentiment may be called a weakness – that she prized it even more highly than if Loring himself had been the giver.

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