Muscatine weekly journal. [volume] (Muscatine, Iowa) 185?-1890, 1858-02-06

scter, engaging manner and disposition
quite won the city-bred, aristocratic
Fred Lane. There was freshness
about everything she said or did. She
perplexed as we'll as delighted him.
Often as he was wondering how some
homely expression would be received in
good society, some beautiful sentiment
would suddenly drop like q pearl from
her lips, more remarkable for origin
atty than for brilliancy.
"If l should fall into the SNARE"
thought he, 81 can educate her; it
will be worth trying"
1t was useless to combat his passions,
so he at last fell at Helen's feet (6gu-
ratively speaking) and confessed his
love for her. ngw an -
!" / care not, Helen, only be mine, !"
was his invariable answer to her excla-
nations of unworthiness, how she would
appear in society, etc.
They were married, had returned
from their wedding tour, and yet at the
expiration Of the honeymoon Fred was
more in love than ever. At grand
entertainment given by the friends of
the bridegroom, Helen looked most
beautiful. Her husband did not insist
that she should depart from simplicity;
and indeed without jewels or laces,
with that fresh white robe, simple sash
of blue, and ornaments of fair moss
rose, she was by far the most lovely
creature in the room. s-.-- q
As she entered the great saloon,
blazing with light, her heart failed her.
"Shall l love him as dearly" she
asked herself, " if | find he is ashamed
of me? I cannot bear the thought !;
but should he overcome all convention
al notions, then have husband to be
honored, and then shall he be proud of
his wife.
How she watched him as he present.
ed her to one and another.
Simple" whispered a magnificent
girl, respondent with diadems, as she
curled her lips and passed by. The
observation escaped neither Helen nor
her husband. She looked at him. He
smiled a. lovers smile, and only drew
her closer to his side. Many in that
brilliant gathering pitied poor Fred and
wondered why he had martyred himself
on the shrine of innocent rusticity.
But he! oh joy! he seemed only to
love her the more as she chung to his
arm so timidly; his noble face express
sed the pride he truly felt; he looked
as if he would have swept back the
scorn with one motion Of his hand, had
they ventured one wave too high on the
shore of his pride. He seemed to ex-
cuse every look, evey word not in stricl
conformity to etiquette and Helen's
heart beat high, and tears came to her
ey,s, when she felt how noble heart
she lad won.
The young bride stood near her hus-
band talking in low tone when a new
conner appeae She was beautiful,
slightly formed creature, with naughty
features. Ill-concealed scorn lurked
in her brilliant eyes whenever she CLAN
ced towards Helen. Once she held
sway over the heart of Fred, and hear.
ing he had married, she fancied her
hour had come.
EDO you suppose she knows any
thing ?" whispered a low voice near
her.
Helen's eyes sparkled, her fair face
flushed Indignantly. She turned to her
husband. He was gone, speaking at a
little distance with friend.
"Do you play, Mrs. Lane?" she ask :
ed. There was a hooking tone in her
voice.
"a little" answered Helen, her
cheeks blushing.
"And sing!''
GA little" was the half reply.
"Then do us a favor" exclaimed
Miss Somers, looking askance at her
companions. "Come, 1 myself will
lead you to the instrument"
Hark what a mastery touch |? In
stantly were the half-spoken words ar
rested, the cold ear and naughty head
we're turned in surprise. Such melody!
Such correct intonations! Such breadth,
depth and vigorous touch who is she?
she plays like an angel. A.
And again bark ! A voice rolls-a
flood Of melody; clear, powerful and
passing sweet; astonishment paints
many fair cheek a deep scarlet
There is silence unbroken, and the
silver strains float up.
ssAye! care not for cold neglect,
Though tears unbidden start;
And scorn is but bitter word,
Save when it breaks the heart.
If one be true,
| If one be true;
The world may careless be,
Since may only keep thy love,
And tell nv grief to thee.'