M'arthur Democrat. (McArthur, Vinton County, Ohio) 1853-1865, 1857-08-06
An hour later and MIR. Patron is a

lis bright coal fro, with his dressing
gown once more folded around him.
The only difference is that he smiles
instead of sighingas he did before.
"Ah, yes" he says, 81 see my way
clear. | can now, without hesitation,
call apon Madame Victor in her room
to interest her about my little Casta
Diva. | will tell her the story and
engage her to cultivate the voice OF
my little protege.
| will see her tomorrow morning
and perhaps she will accompany me to
Bridget's lodging. Not a very ro-
mantle walk to invite the lady of my
heart to share, but then tho circum-
stances are peculiar.
"Now | think Of it, | must engage
of my landlady tie little bedroom next
to mine. | am determined to adopt
that singing cherub for my own. |
will change her name to Casta Diva
Patron. Itsounds musical, and she
is musical herself. Ifswcct Madame
Victor only secs in her what do, we
shall be an amazing family. Ideclare
feel like a husband and q father al.
ready. shall find enough to do with
my money after ALL"
And so he goes to bed and dreams of
his future joys till he fairly laughs
aloud in his sleep.
Now it is morning, and if You will
put your head out Of your door you
can see him walking along the hail.
He stops at s. knocks gently; but
the rich toned piano, touched by a
thrilling hand, does not allow so dove.
like a tap to be heard. This time he
knocks louder, the music stops, and
the door is opened by a beautiful wo-
man, who smilingly invites him to en-
ter. Well, l don't wonder he fell in
love with her! They closed the door.
Let's you and go and peep in at the
key.hole and hear what they have to
say. Pllnever tell-will you? Hark!
Well, after all | can't tell what they
have said now, because | promised |
wouldn't; but Patron has staid there
great while, and he don't ask her to
sing or play all the time.
Now the door opens again and they
come out together; he in his overcoat
and she in her cloak and velvet bon
net. lie looks very much excited,
and she looks pale and trembles so she
can hadly speak. She takes his prof
fered arm, and goes down stairs and
out Of the street door. do believe
they are going to Bridget's.
And SO they are.
Good Mr.. Patron walks slowly with
the sweet lady, for she has every rea-
son to tremble; she believes she is
Lauretta's mamma; for she has been
telling her friend how her husband
was killed in a dreadful mob one day,
because he was great politician, and
when they had burned his house
they took and threw her into prison,
where she remained a whole year,
and made her escape when during the
terrible trouble in Italy, the prison
doors were unbarred to all.
She sought frantically for her child,
but in vain; and believing that both
Lauretta and her nurse were crushed
in the mob that killed her husband,
she came to America to try to earn a
livelihood among the hospitable
strangers by her fine musical education
and uncommon voice.
Madame Victor believes that Lau-
retta is her child because their stories
are so strongly alike. Five years
have passed since she lelt Italy; but
she knows that her eyes will not de-
ceive her. Her baby's features are in
deliably engraved upon her heart.
Her kind friend supports her up
five flights OF stairs, and she stops to
take breath and nerve herself for eli
ther intense happiness or disappoint-
ment.
They are about to enter the room,
when a little voice greets her ears,
singing with wonderful power and ex-
preston, an Italian melody, which the
lady herself used to sing in her own
sunny land. She stops and grasps
the arm of her friend.
ooh, watt" she whispers, "let me
try" with great effort, she contin.
ues and completes the unfinished
strain in voice that an angels might
not exceed.
lie opened the door.
Lauretta stands in the centre Of the
floor, alone, pale and agitated; her
great eyes dilated with emotion long
repressed. Her mothers voice has
reached a spot in her little heart,
which vibrates on her memory like
glimpse of Heaven.
Madame Victor sinks upon a chair,
and gazes long and earnestly upon the
little motionless figure; then she
stretches out her arms and whispers,
"come here"
"Tell me yOur name. sweet one"