Page:The Ladies' Cabinet of Fashion, Music & Romance 1832.pdf/14

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12
THE SHY GENTLEMAN.

corner of her lip, that called to mind a vision I thought I remembered to have seen before." I believe you don't recollect me Mr. Roebuck," said a voice that almost made me jump from my chair, though it was as low, and as sweet, as a distinct wood dove. I have heard men extolled for marching up to the mouth of a loaded cannon without flinching; but no well authenticated instance of heroism, in my opinion, ever came up to that I exhibited on this memorable occasion, when I answered, in a voice that I almost think was audible, looking her almost in the face the while, "Indeed I have not that honour, madam." The effort was decisive, my hands became steady, my forehead resumed its natural warmth, the roaring in my ears gradually subsided, my pulse beat healthfully, and my nerves settled down into something like self-possession. My neighbour followed up my reply, by reminding me that we had been at a dancing academy together a long while ago-though I recollected she was much younger than myself-spoke of many little kindnesses I had done her at that time, and how vain she was of being the pet, of not only the biggest, but handsomest boy in the institution. "You are much altered," said she, "and so am I-but I recollected you, as soon as you came into the room. I was determined to renew our acquaintance, and to make the first advances-for I remember you used to be a shy boy." "Yes," said I, "and I am a shy man to my sorrow; but I can still feel delighted at meeting my little favourite again, in the shape of a fine woman" -and I believe the very deuse got into me, for I seized her hand, and squeezed it so emphatically that she blushed , and smiled mischievously, as I continued begging her pardon for not recollecting her, and apologizing for being such a shy fellow. The recollection of past times, and youthful days, the meeting of old friends, and the recalling of early scenes and attachments, come over the heart of man, as the spring comes over the face of nature waking the early songsters, touching the little birds and blades of grass with her magic wand into sensation, and putting the whole vivifying principle of expansion, growth, life, love, and beauty, into sprightly and exulting activity. As the ice-bound brook signalizes its release from the cold, rigid, inflexible chain of winter by its eternal murmurs, so did I my enfranchisement from the tongue-tied demon of silent stupidity, by an overflow of eloquence, such as alarmed my very self. I revelled in the recollections of the past; a dawning intimation of the future danced before my wakened fancy, distant, obscure,

and beautiful. I talked like a parliamentary Cicero, whose