Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 3, Number 31, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 1 February 1873 — Page 6

Page PDF (10.21 MB) Locked

Back to issue view

tr-

PS $

TEMPORA MUTANTUR. ~~i X' •t.-W -i.

se«

?SS

-i

SHI

•l :S3S

Tick li"k-? tick my heart Is sick To bear bow time 1st flying *1 For Ht break of day I mast baste away, And leave dear Kitty a-crying.

djTnel clock, *5 Why do«t thou mock 5 4 heart no ftick, With thv tick, tick, tick! Go tlowlyI (IS-! 11.

{eaningforward

iifl II®

li4U'

Tick—tick -tick-my heart Is sick To hear how time dotb arry For at break of day I will baste away, My own dear Kitty t« marry.

O cruel clock, why doit hoa mock«, lly heart so Mck, •:•••.#,* with thy tick—lick—tick! Bo slowly

fFrom Scribaer's Monthly.]

Little Miss Frere.

of tbe tail pine treessurrounding the bouse on the bill. Overhead tbe heavy Cloud* which bad bung low all through the day were broken asunder and drag-

,*?•' end towards the rtb on either side as though by their own weight, leaving filjny ragged edges through which the grewt, ci skv looked down. In the went, covering his retreat, bristled the

EO'denfit

lam-es of the sun just above a ir of rcest red, which shone like the pillar oi cloud and ttre iu the days of the promise. Lights gleamed out iroui the windows of the house pointed arrows I Of brightness shot through tbe halfif0 closed shutters or between the lolds of the curtains left awry, and touched the road below, where the working people irons the town were plodding home to tbo dingy little cabins on the llat aloug the hend ol the river.

Within the house summer and sunShine seemed still the reign* -A- flood of light poured from the empty dfawingroom and from the open door across tho ball come the odor ol Iruitand flowjers. with the bright sparkle of silver. ^Dinner

WHH

just over, and the family

lingered a moment in tbedimly lighted ball before proceeding to the drawingroom.

Lot us stay here," pleaded pretty Mrs. Benchley, sinking into one of the caihedral chairs set stiffly against tbe Iw-dl. "To gather in a drawing-rooui 4 afier dinner is a mere conventionality. •-*,,t 1

Kin sure It is much nicer hern and

the widow shook oui her soft black draperies and drew her chair nearer to tbe register where ihey had all gathered for a moment, as though tbe change from the bright, warm room, where the heliotropes were even so soon withers' lug in the eperjne, bad brought a chill. ittefi The rays from ilia blazing star upon the lorehead tho bronze dancing-fcirl at the loot of the winding stairs lit up the group,—tbe fair-faced woman, the

[uesi 01 the house, who bad spoken, with white ouis retoU-

ed hands the Professor, tall, angular, with a stoop aboiit his shouldeis, and ahaggy red brown liair hiding bis strong lace, and the kindly e» smil lng down upon tbe widow through his glasses last of all, but first lu nnpor -1'- tance, the Profe s- r's mother, Madame

Pluitfe, the hostess, standing upon the threshold of the drawing room where the strong light brtught out every tint of her quaint niaii.v-bued dress, every lit»e of her gentle old face shaded by lis queer Utile trout of white curls. A '.Child bad been pulled playfully after 5 the widow by a silken ccarf, like a pet ap'Uilel a little blu« eyed, fur-haired creaiuro who called her "man»ma,"and curled down now a her feet. "z«' 'U.I ltlt« this place," she said, with a "deep stub of contentuienlj throwing back her hend to embrace iu one long, liniiferiiig glance every charm of her •iiriouiuiin^M from the ghostly shad own enveloping the winding stairs, to tbe queer tainity portraits ranged in double rows wliere the light struck lull $*. u|xu the wall before her. "Y»8, I like this place and sh« nestled her cheek againsi ber mother's knee. Each one or the yroop ap-kp iu reply to the child. •'Ifyou do, you must remain with us l"iig tiiuu," said hospitable Madame PteTlle. "Flossy utters aloud, vrhMt some ol os only think deep down in our hearts and the widow threw a glance, hall *4s.»hy and half coquettish, towards tho

Professor, who bent over tbe child, s?-"And likey m," he stid. fiat thouKb his baud re^teil upon the child's hair, bis eves were upon the mother. llow beautiful are the mother and chlldj" thoutiht. "How beauiilul

Is the mother-love, and herein my own bouie!" That all. But the very thought bre ithed a suggestion and in •'•.•'these stray thoughts and ways begins the njug itiou of a certain verb the ». varying moods and painful tenses of

,4f,'wlii-b

the Protestor had learned by heart, ioe, years before. -i The words had l»ton uttord almost in chorus. A pause followed tbe wid•sTow's bohd was bent to the child a soft color had crept into ber laoe. Ah, if it nught be!, She at no longer young,

Ail the warmth wbich ,youth knows td departed with its fjresnness. Love .^6ouid never again be a'sweet surprisai— th'elKtealt creeping out of the heart while the sentry slept. **Bot here was roat and peace, and something which oven wealth could not bring. She was weary of irrylug her burdens, which others ended,'1' sincrt they were c-lied rit lies,^ 8We is

?sc

ilrod of facing the

world alone.IU) W it might be I (dame P«eitf*1 broke the ailenoe with a platitude. She had taken up her knitting and resigned heraelf with a at^n to this arrangement for the eve ^niog, wbic'i did not include the grand dr twing room." II wl. her guest been le^s charming or or a position less as aured, tbe sui »U host gathered so informally bore would have been mat'ahated upon tbe other side of the wide 'doors, towards which Mm. Benchley had turned her pretty shoulder*. But certain thoughts, amounting almost to

leuies, as sne glanced from the win »w to her tall *ou and drew the thread of her knitting over ber left forefinger, r*at«ned ber t» almost any possible Innovation. "What is so ubartuingas the Tr tim iunocenoe of childhood f" she Wld. 1 would we might all utter our thou ibis aloud." ,, -onsctous hypocrite! who would kav» •uffered martyrdom sooner than reve. the «oi em«8 at that memeut working in her own brain. ll-.j pv state l" exclaimed the Profhsiirr' ^wedenborg'a heaven, /where tbutg*are they seem and nonstver thinks three and says four,* But that woatd hardly do Air- mortals. A oertsin amouutof deoeption is absolutely SMwntTal to—welk fi^rU»s prugrssa of Clvdls itinn. lot iiiif,**

R.»bert I" TlMiejtd^ltation wss u! ter din a ioue of horv«f. socompanled bv aside )o« uioveuaonto! the wbil* iri^ The P'Ofassor turned a qutmsiCat ul nw to* S, Is his mother.

Y,»u are abocked Tbe creed ws •*. mttiiry lu our lives would startle tb«- newt of iaucy. ft* esatnpt* article tni, T* IU at tbe wery 1mm «x Uvuiity, wbe.xi the truth posltlff||f^

will not screen us. or when the trntii would involve a breach or good man ners. We all do that, you know."fe

But Madame Pfeiftr preserved a dignified and displeased silence. The Professor langhed, but moved nearer. "Are you ashamed of your sou Are you tearful fhat yonr,guest in ay think biin pagan? Mrs. Brenchley .pray don't."

Robert, Robert, von talk nonsense, if nothing worse." And though the tone was reproving, the eyeg raised 10 bis were ulloflove. "I only expressed the wish that we might all speak from our hearts as freely as that little ehil'i." "Tonid you?'

I—I think I might." There was a glicht quaver in Madame Pfeiflfe voice, suggesting the possibility ol a doubt. "Suppose try you now.' h« answered. "Tell us your thoughts a moment siuce, when you took upyour

rknitting."

I.T *1'

•it It was tbe evening of a November day. |Th« wind whistled down tbe valley and i|a doleful song ibroach tbe uranch-

The thread snapped in her bngent. "One c^niot recall. How can 1 1^117 she began.

The Professor laughed.*» 'It is easy to theorizH." he said. H* turned to the widow "Atletst we may «ue*s. Sue was takinjr John to

A tnurinur of indignant sympathy, with a low laugh from tbe Professor, tollowed this recital.' There was a sparkle of drops and jewels as tbe widow psssed ber hand quickly over her eyes. "How silly she exclaimed, smiling and blushing, and half turning from ber small but interested audience. "For a moment the bitterness and mortiflcaliouof that htmrcame back to me."

Not silly at all. my d«ar Madame Pfeiffe hastened to say. She was more than

ever

here?"

task.'mentally,

.changed with the woman

who Inadvertently displayed so ureal sensibility, and who bad told ber little story in such a pretty, dramatic way. ...The Professor be uned upon her from his kindly eyes. Eveu the sheltering glasses could not quite hide their sudden softening. "In fact it was a failure," be said.

It was indeed," Mrs. nchley, rejoined, "and a painful 1 sson. -1 have confessed only admiration since then: My aversions' I overcome or bide from sight."

But »ven these, to be thoroughly honest,would involve so mauy fine distinctions," laughed the Professor. •'•My dear sir,'you would be obliged to say one, *1 like you—tolerably.' Think or the torment in that adverb! How it would haunt the poor fellow. For myself—" But here tbe conversation elided abruptly. There had been a noiseless step upon tbe stairs, and suddenly, without warning, a little, wbite-clad figure—girl or woman?— stood upou the lowest step, glanciug timidly, hall-deprec •tingly from one to another, as though she would apologise for the intrusion, or must wait st least r*f recognition before advancing.

Amy my dear child." And Madame Pfeifle rose so bastily that the work in ber hands fell to tbe floor, and tho brignt blue ball of worsted rolled awsy under the piano. She drew tbe little shrinking-figu 0 from its perch. "This is .a de»r lit le friend. Amy Fiore," she said, pulling the girl for ward by one little dark, trembling nd. "She came while we were at dinner, quite unexpectedly, but is none the less welcome," she hastened to add, giving the cold hand in hers a reassurring pressure. "We did not look for her till next week.'!

Mrs. Benchley,'hair rising, made a rsther ststelv salutation,*after ber first start of surprise. "Are there any aiore to come she thougbt^glsncuig involnntarilr inte the upper regions of dsrkness from which the little figure bad glided In such mysterious silence. "Mrs. Buichlev is staying with us for a while. I am sure you will be Mend*," Midame Pfeiffe saying. "And Floss.v we must not forget Flossy," as th» little fluffy ball gathered itsell up from the floor.

The girl half altered a hsnd. which was unobserved in the widow's deep courtesy, the« gave a timid shrinking how. snd without noticing the child at all, stood painfully confused while Msdsme Pfeiffe drew ber own chair forwaid.' „,-•

Good evening again," the Professor said. quetly, appearing from the shadow of the li»ir«r door He held out his bsnd to the new guest. She touchedit without raising ber eyes, and then sank almost fr« sight Into tke depths of tbe frnft aru» cb*ir. 8he was very little thing. Hardly mors than a child In sise, with a dark, thin face, which In the strong light, as she stood for that one moment upon the stairs, had shown traces of cars rather than years in the shadows under the great dark eyes and the tens* lines about tbe email stouth. Her hands stia trembled upon her lsp, though she lay baok qniie etill, as it vlad to sink into t_la sudden oblivion. Hsr rest was only for wist, how*wr. John's eoiemn taos appeared at th* fllni"! raotn door. Madamf Pteiffo nodded, to him. "Yea, Oume. Amy. yon must be faint w|p ftMtin*. I ibottght yuu would prelfcr your tea qutoOy by /outwit ,8h*lSs had a loe«i«*urne.v,,r she explaioed to Mrs. BenciilV

Ah!" tbe h-*r statellnees softening ^(Sfeewhat at the sight ef

Thedrift

f.-r

having orgoit tbe dining-room windows last nigbt." Indeed I w^s not.

Ah exclaimed tbe Professor, "so you do remember But to this she vouchsafed no reply. There was an air ol triumph in deni .l. They were fur from the truth. They were cold as ice, as the children say in hunt-the-ihimble. Pos*illy he knew it. Possibly he surmised her plans for however dark ber divising-s the little old lady's ways could never be other than opeu as tho day. "Tbe onlv pleasure, atter all, in tbe entire frankness which my mother advocated so warmly." sai I the Prof«s sor' "would be iii venting oue's dislike*." "Pray don't," exclaimed the widow. "I have tried it." She laughed as at an amusing recollection, though something bright shone in her eyes. "It was at school," she went ou. "I conceived a mortal dislike for ihe girl sitting before me. It must have been a spiritual aversion} since it was inexplicable. I bore it iu secret awhile, then rebelling against the deceit, confessed the whole to its object." She paused. Madame PleifTe looked up from her kmt'ing. '_/• "Well?" said the Professor. His eyes twinkled behind his glasses.

Mrs-V Benchley laughed, though the brightness lu her eyes shone like tears now.

What do you think, she replied?" snd tbe wiaow raised a flushed, warm face, guileless »s a child's in its sud den show of feeling. ."She said she had always tho'tight me a proud, disagreeable creature, and she knew many others among the girls who agreed with her in this opinion."^ And upon 1 hat she proceeded to call over the names of so in toy whom I believed to lie my friends, that I: ran from her in tears and cried for a week afterwards."

i'K RRK-H A I-f.T-K &'ATIT K11 KVUNIWG MAilyFEPRUARY I. FS73.

Yee She baa been two days upon tbe road." .. Do spirits ften drop from tke skies

the widow ssk«atbe Professor,

when hie m«»tbsr led lbs new guw sway. "And Is their traneH usu»lly accomplished in two days?**

The Professor's eyes

had

fohowea tne

two figures disappearing through the open door. "I beg your pardon, sdd sd Mrs. Benchley, ss bis iss» returned to her "hot ehe appeared so suddenly in our midst, I l«»oked np naturally to the sky-ligh .The w»rds were spoken ligotlv, but there was a shade of annoyance'in ber tone. The girl was evidently aeby, nervons little thing, who would be only too th mkful to be permitted to sink out of sight. She would ask for nothing and otter nothing in retarn a nonentity, iu lack But tbe long plessaiit evening -s broken in upon.

waa

tamed.

Bolls nor bars avail against tbem." ths Prof'essi said, "dreamily, emerge inganfroin a''reverie, and speaking from miles awav. Then he roused' himself. "However, tbis one arr ved after ui(st mortal fashion. I myself took her from the carriage at tbe door. I wrs Called front the table, you know.*' "I hat« surprisessaid Mri^ Benchley, with a petulance more than baif real, and carrying her frankness to tbe verge of rudeness. -••••-. "Do you?" queried the Professor, aliseiiily. Winieno hirg is so, surprising^© unexpected hs—woinan."

He had seated himself carlessly before the piano. He rose now, and began to pa'ce back and forth, slowly, bis handsclaisped behind his back. "I dolfnot/uiidersiand. You assert rashly," l^egan Mrs. Beuchley.

But still be w* nt on, bis bead bent so that bis ftce

WHS

bidden by his shaggy

«ir, his eyes fixed upon the floor. The80und of Jobn'sstealthv step cane out to them from tbe next room witb the soft tinkle of glasses.

Then Madame PfeifTs voiee, fussilv persuasive, fdlowed by another, s»iter, k.wer. and hesitating. The Professor turned his bead to listen.

I made a study of th® subject once," he said, pausing before the widow. "Most men do. I imagine. It is a change from Greek and Hebrew verbs Men take them up together. At least I did. .The first was inost absorbing, but soonest ended and be went on sgsin down into tbe sbadowa where tbe stairs turned. What was he saying1? What did hs mean? She had never beard that bis lite had belu its romance.

To illustrate,' he con*iiud, drawinu near a^ain.and on -onsc ously adoptii the fortn of expression he was aecu* toined to use in the class: 'I have known a woman, young, iunocent, a child almost, who could be swayed by breath whose ways were clear to rea1

the stare are bright in heaven,

to suddenly turn, without perceptible causa became at once reticent, cold—" There was a slight stir in the dining room chairs rolling baek, a mingling or voices then Madame Pfeifle and her cbarge appeared.

My dear," Madame Pfeiffe .was saying, "we must have these cbeeks rosy. A raw sgg before break fast every morn lng is sn excellent thing to buiki

one

up. 4 What afresh round face you bad, to be sure, when you used to come

us ten y'eare ago." Ten yeaVs ago Mrs. Benchley ex pressed her sftrpris?. "That must have been in arms," she said, pleasantly. She was vex* with the girl for appear lug so inopportuuitely, and yet one could not harbor resentment sgains the pale, frightened little creature.who sat upright in her chair now to renlv. 1'n nervous, flurried way "I am old er than you 11 hink. I have been teach lng for,six years." Then, as if terrified by ttie'spiind of her own voice, she sub%ided tquickly into silentse. and the friendly ^'depths again. For the mo* aent her eheeks liad been as blooming as even' good Madame PleifTe could have wished.

At ttie quick, impatient tone of her voice the Professor, who had walked away, turned bis bead and smiled as though at some odd recollection. His mother took up her words.'1,

Yes, and it is that which has warn ber out," she said. "Poor Amy I'' snd there was a depth of compassion in her voice. "But we shall take care of her now that we have her again." She laid her plump, dimpled band, shining with one old-fashioned ring, upon the srm of little Mi«s Frere's ohair witb these words, where it was quickly seised snd furtively pressed in a little dark pslm. V.We lost sight of her "—Madame Pfeiffe went on, addressing the widow —"for several years we kuew nothing stall about her." -*VAh!r£j responded Mrs. Benchley. rather wearily. The girl was very 11 ce and worthy and ill used, no doubt but hefr coming at this time was uulortu nate, to.say the least. A new element introduced into a 11-assorted 'com psny cati never be thoroughly welcome and tbey had been so comfortable but an hour before! Mrs B'ncliley turned with that one brief exclam lion to the child who bad fallen fast asleep at her feet. "I had quite forgotten," she said making an ineffectual attempt to rise. "Will ssmeone br-kind enough to'ring for Haddie?''

It was little Miss Frere who sprang upat this, and pulled the bell-cord. Evident iy she was iccus'omed to heed such requests. But the Professor raised the child tenderly from where she Isy, a soft little heap upon ber (hers gown. "Pray don't Wake her," he said and the Swede nurse appearfd just in time to see bim bear her up the stair, her long bright hair flowing over bis arm. -"Little Miss Frere started. Thedrk eyes opened wide in a kind of in*d surprise a ihe widow gsve tbe child into bis arms, thanking him with a smile and a little conscious blush.

He returned presently to find Mrs. Benchley at the piano. Ah, do, uiy dear," Madame Pfeiffe hsd pleaded, as she rose and strayed towards it. Her fingers wandered over the keys a moment as though searching for lost harmonies. Then she gathered them sweetly into one.», Upon little Miss Frere, hidden iu the great arn cnair, ths sounds fell like dream of music, like the echo of grand voices,' like tbe noise of falling water far away. Her head droopod lower, and lower tears gathered In her.eyee.\Davsot hsppiness long past troofwd by, callei up as from their graves,—tbe *ys when she was younger and more fair and tbe future stretched out its arms to her, smillin snd bright: when Robert's eyes beamed upou her, as sbe faneiei they did now upon the b*aotirul woman over whom he leaned.'*Why hsd she oome again only to disturb tbe peaee«whieb bad fhllen upon ber witb all these years? Ah, In those other days It was she whom be loved and wrapt in her own tbooghta. nneonscions of all aronnd her, with the music sonndlng fainf and far away, she lived that time again. Hiw full it waaof bopse which dreamed they could never M( of juvs which were to be eternal 1 Then came the change, like jairing chord the bitter words so aooo repented of, "I do not love yon," she said to bim hotly. How grave and set his fheebeosme st that. How real and

near It all was to her now. 8ue ooold almoet feel again the auminer son upon the lawn sgaln the scarlet geraniums were all in blossom, and ths whir oi ths locusts sounded more distinctly In ber ears than the song tmin scross the1"room. 'You will thlok bstterofit by and by," he said". "I never will and »-ven theu, faint-hearted, nd with the angry dying within her, ehe had turned away.

How be held her back not in Impatience at her willfulness, only with a grave sadness in bis faco. "Yon will think better of it presently," be said. "Then yob will tell me so. I will wa|t for that, dear." And still holding tke bands that strode to pull themselves awav. he kissed tbe forehead, hot and. flushed, before be left her. How slowly the hours dragged by whent fierce heat ot foolish anger was over. Then at night, when the sun went down upon her repentariee, \»be wrote a little sorry note, which she shrank fros^ potting into bis hand, and so hid in the hollow of the larcb.tree overuanging tbe wide porch at the side bn house, where, more than once 'stealing-out iu the early morning she had found tender missives 10 herself bidden under tbe fallen leaves. And tben: the waking for nothing tor bis cold gravo manner did not change.And having spoken once, how eould he speak again? Tbe note was gone. He must have found.it. She looked for it,^crying 8'eattng on", at du«k and stirring the green leaves which a passing wind had dropped into the eieit Then he was called away—home to Germany, without warninglTsuddenly, that very., day, or no. it was the next.** Sne remember^ ed now, bow he held her band in parting from ber. AhT she thought with a qiui'-k gasp of pain, has he forgotten The warm wet r.iiti eeemed *10 blow in again at the open door agtin.7 just outside," tbe horses stamped' impa tiently. "You will be late," some one cdledV "Are you not coming And still he held her baud. Oh,, why did he not speak? Ir she had raised her lace I Perhaps at sight of the tears she tried to hide he- would have relented.

Then the picture, with the gray mist, hanging over the hills and the drops trickling dkwn tbe wvndow-paDe,' the thud of the horses'hoofs in her ears, all died away, "Tender and true, adieu, adieu," sang Mrs. Benchley. The spell was broken. The singer rose from her place. "Oh, thanks," murmured Madame Pf^itfe. •'-What a pretty song but so sad."

The Professor was silent. BuiD tbe singer, at ei^ht or his bent head and the long slim fingere which seemed to trace a figure"dreamily,"^ telt that khe had not sung in vain. It warmed her heart towards tbe girl sitting mute, but strangely moved, before her.

And Miss Frere—does not Miss Frere sing?" she asked, turning tether with so cordial a smile that Amy look ed up in surprise. "To be sure." Madame Pfeiffe responded, before she had1 time to reply. "Amy, my dear?"

Poor Amy, sitting suddenly upright, zzl«d and confused by the change froin past tapreseut, became reminded at onoe of tbe little-girls whom she had eft at tbe school only two tys beore, with their discordxitt hammering npou the bid piano and their tiresome drone of "one—two—three" over their lessons —should she ever forget it? "You still piay, 01 course, Amy?" Maitine Pteiffe was saying. "Ob yes." Tnisshe eould do. This she did almost daily at tbe school. The teacher was accustomed to call upon Miss Frere to entertain visitors with music. To be thus summoned now was like falling back into one's own place after having been liftedl to the clouds for a moment. She rose Without 'any affectation of reluctance and went quietly to tbe piano "What would yon like? shall it be something lively?" The words came without volition. It was thus she was accustomed to address bo parents who visited the school: and the reply invariably was, v'Ob yes. to besure something lively.", But with tbe question she raised so patient and weary a face that Madame Pfeiffe mentally resolved that it should ba^two fresh eggs before breakfast instead of onef There was a basty reply of A nythitig you choose." Mrs. Btnonl tried not to smile at the forlorn little figlire with its odd suggestion. Bui little 5-1if»s Frere saw nothing save the shadow of the man's face elose, beside her. and beard only one voice. it seemed to say in her ear. "You sang once."

But I have forgotten I have no music," she beg in. confusedly. This was quite unlike

rher

edges.'

daily experience, and

all he'r",self-consciousness returned. There was^a^sir mge jivhir in her, e^rs. The pictures upon the wall danced hefore her eyes. "I sing only exercises with the children," she said. ,v •?But he went on relentlessly. "There is''music here." And he dngged from :is receptacle a loose collection of songs. He turn* thetu over irulessly then a sudden light came into bis eyes as be selectwd one and placed it before her. She did net move. 8be sat outwardly cairn, her hands'crossed in ber lap, her eves lowered only when his baud swept ber cheek, as he arranged tbe music, she started, and the warm color flowed over her lace. -The leaves were .yellow and crumpled and torn at the

HaVing placed them, be folded

his arms, and, leaning back in the shadow of the half-closed door, waited. There was a bus1) of expectation. Tne high clock, standiug like a sentry in bis box at the foot of the stairs, ticked on, measuring off tbe silence outside, the wail of tbe wind was stilled and through the open shutters behind tbe widow's chair tbe white-faced moon lo k-d n. The little dark hands struck a few uncertain chords. Then, with an odd, impttient movement,' the girl rose. "I cannot,", she said "I have forgotten and I am tired," she plead ed, standing before the Professor, ber head drooping, her hands falling at ber side. He gave a little oontetuptuou* shrug of the shoulders.' He pushed her aside almost rougbly and took' her place.

There was no mist before bis

eyes. There was no trembling of his hands as tbey touched the keys, no qtiaver of the deep full voice, which seemed to bold tears, so expressive of more than thesimpie words of the song was it. Could one thus sing from a dumb heart? -.

JiOh, wert thou la the cauld blast On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My platdle to ihe ai«grr,airt, ft

Ivi shelter thee. rd.snelter thee Or didraUfbrlune'sblUer.rtorms "Around th«e tolsjr,'ai€hind thre Maw, Thy biekLshoold tny buaom.

To UxanTlt a Yto share It "Vj1iwlig Or wers I In the wildest wsste. eas bkak and bare, me bleak and bars, Tbe dessit were a pamuiae,^

If thou weit there, if,thou wert there Or w»-t* I moaarrh o' the globe* wt'athee to reign." wi^ bee to refgn, Tb brightest je.fel In my et»«rn v* be my queen, Ml be my qsesn."^

Mrs. Bench leyleanea

oot

from her

chair. Her evss twere_ Ium1nous, her cheeks wet.. "WhTjii^e^ioii, never sung to us before?" she exclaimed.

Surprise, admtrailon, sod almost sometbfng more shonffln her race. "It Is nothing," be replied, coldly. He tossed tbe yeilow.leaves of the old song from the'rack.* They fell to the floor with asoft rust Is wbietinoone heeded, for st that moment'yjjftadsine Pfeiffe gave a sharp, startled cr/ wbich engaged everybody's attentioig

A nttle white heap lay qnit^ Msotionless in the gr*$£ |rm -chair. Them was a moment of emfosion then Madame Pfeiffe raised the girl In her aherly arms. "Dear child, it waa tbe long journey," she said. "Here, John But ihe Professor put aside the Utile er»wd of frightened.servants who bad gtiheredat his mother's voice, and, taking the girl from ber arms, bore her up the stairs as he nad borne the child an hour before. He would have done the same for any one. for the sake of common hunnnity. Hewonld have felt the same tenderness, aud pity at any other time at tne sight of-suffer-ing or weakness There wasnostrongei emotion in his heart when he took the .little form which lay 1'kea dead weight in his arms. She had proved falswi or she had not known her own heart once. It did not matter which. at" thought did come to. him as ho laid her head upon bis shoulder. The heavenly pity which the sight of weakness brings to us all bad swept away' the bitterness and anger wb ch rankled* iu him a moment since.1* Shame kind led in its place that he coud have felt resentment against anyt inu so frail as tbis. That time of which be thought .was far away inj.be ptat-.. It was like a dream of youth.' He was not sure that he regretted the awakening, or that he would have had it otherwise if he could.

poor

little girl!" be said, laying

ber down upon his th«Vs bed. He had not noticed until iow how worn and thin was tbe face lying in sharp proti4e upon the pillow. Her life must have been bard indeed. How different it might have been And yet the sigh was only for her. Poor chMd!

Be left her with the weuien and came out into the hall. Some one emerged hastily from tbo adjoining room. It was Mrs. Benobley. She wa» very pale from fright aind eiciiemdiitrand a sharp suspicion-which had pierced her as to the causetof as Frere's illness. Could it be possible that there had been any connection between the girl's visit so mittiy years b«tore and the confession of the Professor,, tbe experience 10 which he bad referred, and which she on|§r half understood or believed at the tvne? The question iu ber uiind gave lifer unconsciously an expression of anxiety which'.the Professor misinterpreted.

Db not be alanned," be said. "She is already recovering. You can tio nothing and I think we may both go dowu. again."

She was fingering the pretty, sparkling vinaiurV tte iu her hand wulle he spoke the color slowly returning to her face. She had hastened to bring li out in the first moment of fright, from a desire to do something, she hardly knew what, to atone for her selfisbuess and impatience.

I am very glad, I am sure aud then tha old dock bei struck the hour witb a sharp twang, and an angry twir between each strolcs. "Is it indeed so late? theu I will not go dowu again, thank you* Goodnight," aud she held out ber hand. There- was souietliiug very JTweet and womanly in the little start £f surprise and the soft smile with whkuh she 0 eluded her seutuuee as she gave biin her hand. There was a gentleness aud repose

About

her at all tiui s, aud a

charutiu tho frank, beautiiul lace rais ed just tben, which greatly moved th? Professor. Here is a womau without subterfuge or deceit, thought he, wnose very presence is pt-ac aud. as he held her'hand, moved by a sudden impulse, be bent aud kissed her lorehead where ber hair lay brown aud smooth upwu It.

It was so unexpected, so quickly devised and executed, that not' eveurait exclamation followed. Hastily drawing away ber hand, the widow fled «u the souud of a footstep app.oaching from tbe sickroom. Once within ber .•wn chamber, which the beat in* of hsr own heart made fairly to resound, she sauk upon the bed beside the sleepfcug Flossy, startled, trembling. Ouly sue idea was distiuct and clear in ber inlud —1 he Professor cared nothing lor Little Miss Frere. If be loved the girl, woud he have come to her as he did just now and again, alone though siie was* the blitod rushed to ber face until a nerve puise beat in her cheek. She bent over tne sleepiug child, tram force ol habit, for in truth the child was'not iu 'her thoughts. They had ceuterpd upon littl«, Miss Frere. of whom she had caught a glimpse as she fled by the disclosed door. She lav very white .and still, up ou the bed. Her hair h.id falieu 'down, and she had drawn one lock acroas her eyes. The widow fancied that a aob had cotiie out 10 ber. What did it mean She tried to put away the auspicious which rose in ber uiiud. She was accustomed to banish disagreeable things tbev had no part iu her 1 lie. Why should this odd, paie faced girl, who had seemed to fall from the skies almost, annoy ber? Why should th. viaiou of tuat tired lace Slid droopiug figure haunt her.

Sue had been sitting in£be darkness, the door half opeu. Shs rose to close it uow. A faint odor from the Profess aor's cigir floated up irom below like the breath ol incense. Sue remembered agaiu the fl uth of tbe ahiiie over his tace, tbe sweep ol his muustaohe over ber hair, and the visiou 01 little Miss Frere laded away.

How would tbey meet in tbe morning? The widow thought of it uer vously as she placed upon her hair the bit of lace which bad taken the place ol tbe dainty cap. She hesitated, holding it iu ber hand. Why should she wear it at all? Why sttould she hide the thick brown 0 dls Then she arranged it in its pta«e witb a little sigh. Strange bow the past and present mingle in our tbouguts, and we sigh and reioice in tbe same breath. 3* But Mrs. Beucbiejr's thoughts wsre too actively engaged apoaki|yMM*S1bilities of the uext half UoaTtoaTlow tuem to dwell long'upon the psst._- Every thing seemed changed to her slnos meeting at the head of el could hardly eeeui otherwise to tbe Professor. She did not say to herself that be had asked ber ucf be his wile. But had not that klas Implied as much? To her It was mi sign or sadden tenderness lightly bestowed and ligblly to be let to pass into forgeifulness. She lingered over ber-toilet''loiig after sbe beard Madame Pfeiffe go'down for sbe shrank with strtnge shyness from meeting the Profesaor alone.

Tbey were at the break fast-table when she Anally descended,-*leading Flossy by tbe hand snd murmuring some excuse for ber tardiness." li might have bnen a downright untrutb, so quickly did the blush come with tbe words as the Professor rose to greet her. 8he bad hardly expected that he would fall upon his knees, or lead her op to his mother to crave ber blessing.

And yet some slgu she had nnconscidOsly looked for. The sudden lighting np of his Ame, tbe lingering, elasp of bis hand, aometbing to show th.tf this wss anew day to bim. Shir had half dreaded this yet uow that there Wss nothing, she was conscious of a I feeling of dissppoiutinent. Yet after that one' quick flasu of color wnlcb conld. net be repressed, shs was toe $ •nnch a^roman to display any emotlon.

We will not wait,'! said Madame Pfeiffer as John brought in the urn. "Amy is not coutiug dowu. Poor child I sbe passed a restless nigut. I am nut sure, but that we ought to send for a physician. She seems 111 a strings nervous state. Will you not see hdr after breafefcst, Robert?"

Certainly, il jou wish it," he replied, gravely. Perhaps, after all, she had better sleep for a while, sue cm. Sue needs rest rathec than inediciue,! think.',' Aud then the eouveisaiiou y.u-s^-d to utx»re general topics, anil the oreaKiast hour, to which tho widow u.td'ii.oived forward with, so uiuuu puituroaiiuu of mind, proved a very antipie uad uusveiHful time after »»u.

A few hours-later, little Miss Frere, shiveriugiu a wui«.e wrapper, »uu uer dark hair drawu down ov eiuter cbesiaand tied loosely under her chin, peered out through the Venetian biiuds screening window, to watch tbe processiou ouierKtu^ Iroiii the wood. Tue clouds had ur n. and dud before t»e Uu e-» 01 tiK SUti. I iiu west Wiud chained through tot- piu s, where tuere bad oeou ouly moans iue night beloie the last shower ot scarlet ana *old was dropping gentle I ruui tUe maples. Tho oright, crisp leaves crackled ui*ues tuo Professor's feet as-he erased tbe lawn to the house. He carried tbo cuild Flossy, perched up04 his shoulder'aud uolding fast to his ha^gy utaue iu. an agyny j»f terror aud deli^ut us tie pitwigsd lorward liks an tuigovoi uaoie steed, threatenisg to throw her at every siep. The widow lollowed more slowly. Marbat had fallen ba* k-" tbe wind had roughened her imooiii hair aud reddened her cheeks, tier arms-were lull of treasures lichens aud trailtnj troetv atos* iu which lt b-rr.e» nu.s emKl, aud rainbow-tinted leaves hguuug upthe whole ^last ot all catne Haddie,' laden like a sumpter ntule witu shawlaand discarded wraps, and a lunch basket struggling for individuality in the midst.

Ah, bow pretty aud fresh and girlish she is, with tue red on h. cueeks,. and her hair all blown about in thewind!" thought poor iiuie Miss Frere,. following the widow with envious, eyes, a tierce pang of jealosy contracting her heart. Ou, way did I coide again!" she sobbed, sinking bacK out of sight as they drew uear. Woe had risen aud thrown open the window at the sound of their voices. She forgot $ inclose it now. Sne lorgot to go back to-her bed. She sat crouching bohiud the shutters, chilled and miserable,, crying with little feeble sob-. Somethinglike this she td felt before, wh'ei* the children at school 1- iieued agaiust her weak authority. bn-forlofa, neglected, and crtifhed to eartb«v^M4Unew sensation^ so tbat^ihere^iufTtiO. wUdoutburst ofgrief,'as,ih3:reauig^ bMti buen once wheu aiie wa* Vouu^er, and rose up with' snort-1 ivrd s^reuath to-meet every triHl, or such aa'coiTiiM jto those to whom griel is rare.^ For one moment the night itefore sh« had lived in a new world. The fLa-h of light, the warmth and -coiu un 'in "the ^atmosphere of the house, as she stepped kt IKIIU the.chill, dreary darkuess outside, had air belonged to tiiis sti^jnge sphere Altfsl'lt Iwas'oiily forit uioment. It had all comV* bicK, uow—the nard life brightened by no ray of hope, of which uo one could know, save tue sensitive sonl who had it to bear. It had come back like a new trial, a fresh burden' which she must traiu weary selt anew to carry.

Yoices in the nail below startled her there was a step upon 1 he stairs. 8he crept quickly b4ck to ho bed'anU bid her face as though she slept. And good Madaino Pi'eifi- stole nol« sly in aud out again. Preseutly, lisceuing, sne heard them go their several *a.\s. The library door closed after the Proiessor. His mother, huving

SJI

a little tray be-

sids her bed, went softly to licr own room. The widow and hor child followed. The bouse was still. Then little Miss Frere rose she smoothed out her tangled hairjihd ixMiud it up in tbe plain fashion in which ie was used to wearing it at school, where there was little time for lingering over one's toilet.

vShe

stood* a moment be ore the

great wardrobe. Ah,' what need was there of gala fiuery? there would be no gaia-days. Sbe'lelt untouched all that had been prepared- with such pleasant pains for tbis rare bsliday, aud chose tbe plsin gray gown she was u»ed to wearing every day. Then, wraj piug a shawl so hastily about her that one lringed end trailed all the way, she ran swiftly aud noisel* s»iy dowu the stair*, out through tbe long open window at tbe end ol the ball, brushing the woodbine in her baste and c«usiua a shower ot its dark red leavo* 10 tail, aud so across the iawn in the edge of the woods. It was a childish iuipuUe, an uncontrollable de»ire ioetc.pe from thein all for tbe mouiout, as tbougu in ber baste she might leave her troubles all behind.

But ber exit was not so unobserved as she imagined. Tbe widow bad stolen down the stairs belore ber, and ensconced herself lor a quiet half-hour in the drawing-rooiu. She beard the opening of the door above, tbe M»lt gliding step upon tbe stairs, and caught a glimpse through tho widow of the little graj-ciad figuie i*»lpeaiiiig into the woods. "How odd!' she exclaimed.

I thought the girl was asleep.*' And some idea of her senses having deserted Miss Frere did flit through Mrs. Benchley's mind as sue laid *d wn ifer book under an impulse to, foilo* I tbe girl. She poshed open the glass doors and stepped out,upou tbe veranda. One stray warbler 111 tue larch-iree overbead told of departed summer in low, mournlul notes. She scanned"!ho edge of tbe woods. No«tue was iu sil ht^A squirrel startlsd bor as be ran along tbe bough ovniiali

WHS

feaves

hidden a moment

in the botlow ol the tree, then,"reappearing, fled s. inly down asrosg the lawn to the woods. y' **jiUljy^reatnre? you -hkve dltcgKry "your treasures UMde."dffiUfffiaugb ed, diverted for ,thb mouieni froin her

urpose she seised a handful *of dry which se« med to till the'bellow in tbe tree. The wiud took them from her open finaers and rc atered them over the dead grase." Raising herself, sbe peered down intoT the treasurehouse. Something y'gleamed it. white from ita depths beneath the store of note ao deftlyjiidden.^The green moss soiled her hand the rongb bark tore her arm aasbebrought out alittle note, stained and yeilow,_ witb one corner still folded overJ^liUe a'lover's note." she'said, holding' it a mouieiit half iiK awe, sbe knew, not why before "opening lt.' It' con at ued but a few words nearly obliterated.':? w" Dear Robgjt^ tbe fai.it lines, said, "I am sorry.^ Can you ft»r(iive Amy?" At first the words nieanL nothing. She [Omtiuued on Seventh. Page.]