Plymouth banner. (Plymouth, Marshall County, Ind.) 1852-1855, 1853-07-28

nearing now liz ndu mdtllruJ iducltu Hef
hour of triumpn ha / come.
DO you suppose she knows anything?
said low voice near her.
Helen's eyes sparkled-her fair brow
flushed Indignant. She turned to her
husband. He was gone; speaking at a
little distance with friend.
Presently Marion Summers turned to-
wards her.
DO you play, Mrs. Lane?' she asked;
there was mocking tone in her voice.
A little,' answered Helen, her cheek
burning.
And sing?'
a little. was the calm reply.
Then do favor us she exclaimed, Il
myself will lead you to the instrument.
'Harkl whose mastery touch?' instant
ly was The half-spoken word arrested
the cold ear and naughty head were turn
ed in listening surprise. Such melody
Such correct intonation. Such breadth,
depth. and vigor of touch; who is it? she
plays like an angel
And again hark! A voice rolls flood
OF melody. clear. powerful. passing sweet
-asIonishment paints many fair cheek
a deeper scarlet There is sience-un-
broken. as the silvery tones float up.
Aye! care | not. for cold neglect.
Though tears unbidden start,
Ard scorn is bu, bitter word,
Save when it breaks heart.
If one be true
If one be true
The world may careless be.
Since | may only keep thy love,
And tell my grief to thee.
Glorious voice, said Fred to his friend,
who with the rest, had paused to listen,
who IAN it be?'
The words were suddenly arrested on
his lips. She had turned from the piano.
and the unknown was his own wife.
Il congratulate you, Fred said the
young man at his side; but he Spoke TO
marble. The color had left his cheek,
as he walked slowly towards her.
fhe was speechless with amazement,
she was not so. A rich boom mantled
her cheek--,riump made her eyes spark
lie as they had never done before-they
flashed like diamonds. A crowd gather
ed TO compliment her. In graceful ac-
acknowledgements she blended wit and hu-
NOR.
How we'll she talks'--'who would
have thought it?-'Fred's little wife--he
has found treasure were whispered all
round the room.
Meanwhile Frederick Lane, ESQ. stood
like one enchanted, while his poor little
rustic wife quoted books and authors with
perfect ABANDONED mired this one, con-
denned that. A sedate looking student
lost himself in latin quotation--Helen
smilingly finished ii, and received look
eloquent with thanks. Bonmots. repair
tee, language rich in fancy and imagery.
fell from her beautiful lips. as if she had
just received touch from some fairy
wand.
Still Fred walked by her side like one
in dream--pressed his hands over his
bewildered sight to be sure of his senses,
when he saw her bending vision of love
illness over the harp--her full arm lean
ing on its golden strings-heard again
that rich voice, now plaintive with some
tender memory. rise and fall in sweet
and sorrowful cadence.
Tell me, said he, when once alone
with her, what does this mean? who are
you? feel like one awaking from q
dream.
Only country GIRL said Helen. grave
ly. then falling into her husbands arms.
she exclaimed. forgive me; am that very
little rustic that you would die rather
than we'd. Are you sorry you married
me?'
Sorry, my glorious wife! but really.
you could not surely deceive me. But
did | not understand that you had new
sr--
Been at an academy she broke in,
never took music lesson-never was
taught how % sing--all true. And yet
am all you see me to-night--myself my
own teacher: with labor and diligence, l
trust l am worthy to be the wife of one
so good and exalted as find my husband
to be-
Reader, wouldn't you and like to be
there just now, and hear her story; she
laughing between smiles. her pretty face
all dimples as she tells him how she ban
ished piano, books. harp. portfolio, music
and all in an empty room BY themselves.
and locked the door. leaving them to Sc
clusivn and dust--while the little coun-
try girl, without any very deep laid scheme
succeeded in convincing a we'll bred city
gentleman, that he could marry a charm