The Rutland County herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1852-1855, 1853-07-01

had held sway over the heart Of Fred
aud hearing who he had married. sh,
fancied her hour Of triumph had come
9" DO you suppose she knows any
thing " said a low voice near her.
Helen's eyes sparkled fair brow
flushed indignant She turned 10 hcl
husband he was gone, speaking AT 4
little distance with friend.
Presently Marion Summers turned
towards her.
Do you play, Mrs. Lane ?" she ask,
ed there was a moeking tone in her
voice.
"A little" replied Helen, her check
burning.
And singf"
a little" was the calm reply.
Then do favor US" she exclaimed.
looking askancc at her companions =
"come ! myself will lead you to the
instrument"
"hp7N hihsittfl tOutl1s III
sianily was the half spoken word ar.
rested, the cold ear and haugh,y head
were turned in listening surprise. Such
melody F.! Such correct intonation ! Such
breadth, depth, and vigor of touch
"who is she? ? she plays like an angel"
And again hark A voice rolls out ;
flood of melody, clear, powerful, sur
passingly sweet--astonishment paints
many fair cheek a deeper scarlet.--
There is silence, unbroken silence, ms
the silvery tones float up.
Aye eare not for a Geld neglect,
Though tears unbidden start;
And soorn is but hitter word,
Save when II breaks the heart
Ifone he true
Ifonc be true
Tho world may careless be,
Since may only keep thy love,
And tell my griefto thee.
"Glorious voice." said Fred TO his
friend, who with the rest had paused TO
listen, "who can it bei"
The words were suddenly arrested
on his lips. She had turned from the
piano, and the unknown was his own
wife.
~ 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.
Ifhe was speechless with amazement,
so was not she. A rich bloom mantled
her cheeks, triumph made her eyes
sparkle as they never did before, they
flashed like diamonds. A crowd gath
cred to compliment her. In graceful
acknowledgement she blended wit and
humor. How well she talks /, who
would have though, it 2" Fred's lit
tie wiie--he has found a treasure" were
whispered round the room.
Meanwhile, Frederick Lane, ESQ,
stood like one enchanted, while his poor
little rustic wife quoted books and au-
thors with perfect abandon--admired
this one, commended that. A scdate
looking student lost himself in a Latin
quotation-lIelen smilingly finished it,
and received II look eloquent with thanks.
Bon mots, repariee, language rich in
fancy and imagery, fell from her beau
tiful lips, as if she had just received n
touch from some fairy land.
Still Fred walked by her side like
one in dream--pressed his hands over
his bewildered sight to be sure of bis
senses, when he saw her bending a
breathing vision of loveiness, over the
harp, her arm leaning on its golden
strings, heard again that rich voice now
plaintive with tender memory, raise and
fall in sweet and sorrowful cadence.
Tell me-" he said, when once alone
with her, "wbat does all this mean p
who are you? feel like one awakinp
from a dream p
"Only country girl" said Helen,
grayely, then falling into her husbands
arms, she exclaimed, "forgive me; I
am that very little rustic that you would
die rather than wed; are you sorry you
married me p
" Sorry, my glorious wife but, Ely.
you could not surely deceive. Did |
not understand that you had never"
" Been to an academy" she broke in;
never took lesson, never was taught
how 10 sing--all true. And yet | am
all you see me tonight, my own teach
er; with labor and diligence, | trust ]
am worthy 10 be the wife Of one so
good and exalted as find M husband
TO be-"
Reader, wouldn't you and like to
be there just now, and hear her story
she laughing between whiles. her pretty
face all dimples, as she tells him how
she banished piano, books, harp. port.
folio. music, all in an empty room by
themselves, and locked the door, leay-
ing them 10 seelusion and dust, while
the little country girl, wilhou, any very
deep laid scheme, succeeded in convin.
cling wel!-bred city gentleman, that he
could marry a charming rustic, even il
her fingers were more familiar with the
ehurn and kniiiing-needles, than the
piano or harp. ma. D.
fashient From Punch.