The Lancaster ledger. [volume] (Lancaster, S.C.) 1852-1905, 1858-07-28

l had answered. And then went up to
my room, and wondered if Mrs. Arnold
was widow, or if her husband was still
living. lfso, felt strongly inclined to
strangle or shoot him, without any delay.
It IS very ridiculous-yet, also. quite sin
cere-the feeling one man has towards
another who(as he thinks)has robbed him
of something which might have beau,i6ed
his own life. | am sure maay a married
woman would laugh heartily if she but
knew the fancies that pass through the
brain of hyr bachelor friends, who
aimires her, rs he sees her with child
IN her arms, OF her sweet face looking over
her husbands shoulder (stupid man y as
he pores over dry newspaper, quite un.
conscious Of her presence.
While sat thinking thus of Mr.. AR.
mold, Mrs. Arnold, in the next room, be.
gan to sing. There WAS good piano in
No. ~, and had often heard her playing
before. But this evening she only seemed
recalling snatches Of sweet, sad songs,
and felt sure she was alone. lie. touch
upon the keys was soft and dreamy:
sometimes she was playing only with one
hand, and then would come long pause
though had not heard her leave her
seat. would have given worlds to have
been beside her, in that hour Of twilight.
But II faded; and the cold wall OF mr
room was still between us. | heard her
singing Then You'll remember me- verv
softly, and then the music ceased. II !
! had eat toy myself any more | am sure
should have been mad enough TO 90
into the next room SO taking up my hat
and gloves, went out for walk The
door of No. AZ stood half way open, and
from my end Of the passage | could see
into the room plainly, for the boy had
just Ii; the gas, and drawn the curtains.
She WAS standing over the piano, dressed
in deep mourning, though wedding ring
and its heavy guard shone on her left
hand. Thank heaven! he fellow is
dead.' | thought: and then the next mo
ment laughed At my absurdity. She
had the evening paper in her hand, yet
though her head WAS bent, could see
her face quiie well. In only one thing
MAS she different from her counterpart in
my braln-she was not beautiful, ms had
fancied she must be. She was tall, and
straight, aud elegant in form; and her
tsce WAS one Of those which change and
, vary with every shad. Of feeling; but on.
'y redeemed from plainness by pair Of
deep set and beautifully shaped eyes,
whose color, / found, when she threw .he
paper ASIDE, was that dark, lovely blue,
one scarcely ever seas, except in the sky
,F "a l.. a.. \
dreamed of all my life--and yet there
was not the slightest chance that they
would ever look at me, rs they had doubt.
less looked at Mr.. Arnold, deceased,
thousand times. She was grlish widow
yet there was something in her manner
which betrayed the married woman-an
ease and apion,d, which rarely or never
shows itself in a young girl, especially if
she has been reared carefully by moth
er's hand.
might have stood in the passage all
night, criticising her, had she not catered
It herself suddenly. (tor her movements
were nil qaick as flashes of light,) and
taken me so by surprise, that am sure
she would have seen me staring in at her
had she not, luckily for me, caught her
foot III the mat as she crossed the .hres
hold. She stumbled, and would have
fallen, but sprang to her assistance and
caught her, and felt her heart beating
quickly against my arm. She painted
with the sudden start il bad given her,
hu, stood mp in a second, and just glancing
at me AS l stood beside her in the dark
passage, said quietly. Thank you Charles.
] might have huIt myself very much, il
you had not saved me. And, by the
way, | wish YOU would have that stupid
thing taken away. My uncle fell over Il
last night, and | suppose it will Lo my
aunts turn next
She ran lightly up the stairs to her
sleeping room, laughing TO herself as she
went. She had mistaken me for the
wai:erl But did not care, (though /
fancicd there was some difference in our
height and air.) since IL had given me the
pleasure OF hearing my own ha;nS, aud
spoken 10y her lips. declare soIemnly
To this day, that VIXEN Mrs. Cathcart (my
wiiel calls me Charles, an odd feeling
comes over me, and see the hall of the
Spread Eagle, and Mrs. Arnold running
up the stairs. while stand in state OF
maudin admiration below. So much for
the power Of association. sasa
went TO the Opera that evening. |
usually spent my evenings there, or at
the theatre, because | had no acquain.
tances in London, and i, wao dull, sitting
in my room alone. They played tie
bohemian Girl" remember. and the
tenor sang Mrs. Arnold's song, "fhen
you'll remember me-" And the lights,
and the music, and The crowd seemed to
pass away. and leave me listening to her
again, touching tbs piano softly, and half
singing, half bumming the words, rs il,
il she trusted herself to utter them alou6,
they would surely bring tears with them.
| thought Of her constantly tiIl the opera
was over and, the house empty, ]
thouUht of haP avar nv hot sunna. a.,