The
young lady--it is unnecessary to mention her name--was a person of rare
beauty, and mistress of all the wiles which bring young men to the feet
of women. She used these unsparingly, too, for nothing delighted her so
much as to attract admiration and inspire love. Perceiving the effect
which her grace and loveliness had produced upon myself and George, she
made every exertion to increase our infatuation--encouraged first one,
then the other; and, in the end, succeeded in breaking those close ties
of friendship which had bound us from the time when we had played
together as children.
"That is a sad confession, colonel, but it is the truth. The bright
eyes and smiles of a girl had terminated a life-long friendship. The
mere love of admiration in the heart of a young girl had interrupted
the affection of years--making George and myself cold and _distrait_
toward each other. Soon things became still worse. From friends we had
become mere acquaintances--from acquaintances we became strangers, and
finally foes. Busy-bodies whispered, tale-bearers blew the flames. If
the young lady smiled on me at a party where George was present, the
good people around us looked at _him_ with satirical meaning. If she
smiled on George, their eyes were turned toward me, and they giggled
and whispered.
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