Cleveland morning leader. [volume] (Cleveland [Ohio]) 1854-1865, 1859-10-26

/ SHADOWS AND SUNSHINE.
! The June roses were in bloom when my father
died, and before they were all gone, our cottage
/ home was closed, and |, penniless orphan had
found shelter beneath the roof OF a distant Tela-
| tive of my mother.
Everything in and about the house was bright,
and grand and gay-eyerything but me. | did
not woHder-indeed IL was a deep relief WHEN
Mrs Etheridge suggested to me the propfiety Of
remaining in my own apartment, or in the libra
/ ry, during the first month of mourning The
gaiety below accorded il with my feelings and
1 was thankful to leave IL foT the solitude ofmy
| own room The father, whose death had left me
| thus ulOne in the world, had been to me a guide
counsellor, friend and parent from my early
childhood until this, my eighteeth summer, and
when the support was gone for the first time
realized how perfectly had trusted to il.
The apartment which | was to call my own
was large, airy and well furnished, for Mrs. Eth
eridgo, with fortune of moro than half mill
ion, had no need to be niggardly in the appoint
nents Of her establishment.
Mrs. Etheridge was a widow with family Of
! four daughters ell older than /. They were
| gay, handsome girls, living such a life as / bad
often read Of, but never Unsigned possible iu real
lifo They took no notice of the pale, sorrow
full stranger, who was forced upon their society,"
excepting such notice as common polteness re-
quired. They always breakiasted in bed, ssme
four hours after my DAY began, and we only met
| at dinner, when there were always one or more
guests. From this one daily meeting, was af-
ter a few days excused, and allowed to dine
with Miss Briggs the seamstress, and Mrs.
Barnes, the housckeeper, at an hour which was
nearer the one to which had been accustomed.
1t was a point was not long in learning,
that the more aloof kept from the family, the
more satisfied they would be- and the happier |.
lime never hung heavy on my hands. In.
deed the days were far too short for the accom-
plishment ofall wished to do. Ever since my
earliest childhood music had been my passion
{ In our little parlor we bad harpsichord, one,
my grandmothers afterwards my mothers theu
nine. On this l learned to play, without
teacher, and in the evening twights, when my
father, tired with his days study--he was
clergyman-lay stretched upon his lounge,
would sit and play the thoughts chat filled my
brain, until often, he would Taise himself, and
resting his head on his hand, say tendorly.
"You play wonderful music, Dora, wonderful
music!"
Sweet praise from lips so dear!
In the school-room at Mrs Etheridgo's there
wasa piano forte, the one on which her daugh-
ter's learned to play and here had liberty to
practise rs much as pleased. This was gener
ally from five to eight hours daily for it was my
purpose to teach music, and thus he independent
My proud nature shrank from such life as
was leading,
With my mind cally bent on carrying out this
plan, it was no. strange that improved. Some.
times was astonishcd at my own progress, and
| lOnged - n We good musician hear me play
wanted somebody 10 tell me what was wanting
or where in laied-some one who would give
me Just criticism or Just praise
But alas Miss Briggs and Ms. Barnes were
my only auditors and both said il was all beau
tlul, no matter what played Tie only rea
comfort had with them was, one evening
when poor little Miss Briggs sat and cried IN
the corner a full hour, because my music carried
her away back into the country, where she lv.
cd when she was a little girl!
Dear, simple woman! She did not guest
that l, sitting at the instrument the while, aud
with dry eyes, was living over again a happy
: past, in the music my own slight fingers made
A twelN emonth passed thus. II was Jun,
{ again, and Mrs Eiheridgo and her daughters
were mapping out their summer tour They
we're worn out with the dssipatiOns of the fash
iOnable season, and yet eagerly looking forwar,
tothe coming galteJ, as if lite without ball.
aud dress and display, were not worth the living
Poor and lonely as | was | pitied them, fo
they wero restless, uncomfortable, miserable
unless in whir of excitement
They had been away frcm homo not quit,
week, when one morning, as sat at the piano
, playing, heard some ono bounding up Il iligh
, Of steps that led from the gmden up to TN
school room, and before had time to lise,
tall, noble looking man walked unccrcmonlous
4 ly in through the open window, and stood be.
side me.
al beg pour pardon Mics" he said, gravely
looking earnestly in my face, and, as vtu ma,
y not grant it without slight explanation, vii
simply say that my name is Ernest Everett.
am nephew of Mrs Elheridge-haye beer
> away from New York nearly four years. aud SI
my return, forgetting that in that period my lit
tie girl cousins are probably young ladies',
chose this way of surprising them. wal
. always scaPegrace, Mlss---what shall
:" call Youl'
I "Don Deane, if you please SIR replied
amdsed at the grave drUllery OF his tone All,
manner.
20 81 was always scapegracc, Dora Deanc
and never did anything properin the eyes Of ml
lady aunt. Butin these four years am vastll
improved"
/ think he saw my half ncredulous smile, ant
| said, quietly
MRS Etherdge and her daughters arc travel
ing this summer; they left this city last We'd
nesdsy."
81 am sorry for that" said Mr. Everett 81
! had written 20 them, as | should have done
they would have waited and taken me as an es
Cort"
= / fancied slight shade Of irony in his voice
but his face wac an enigma Il was perleet
calm and composed.
rang the bell for Mrs. Barnes, who wa
even more surprised than ! at the sight Of th
stranger 1t was some time before she recog
nished him, but when she did, the cordial grasl
, in which she held the hand extended to her
. showed plainly that he was a iavOrito.
Under cover Of her hearty words of welcome
| was about to leave the room, when Mr.. Ever
EFT called after me.
"Mss Deane, heard you playing as cam
up the garden walk Before | 90 ! woull b
glad TO hear you again. / am very fond OF mu
sic"
"she plays beautifully, think, said Mrs
Barnes encouragingly.
sat down to the instrument and began
= Never had played better my fingers SCENE
U thrilling with life. felt almost like one inspi
=" red. When ] ceased it was from sheer exhaui
n tion. ! did not look up. had almost forgot
to ten that there was any one but myself in th
room, until Mr. Everett came and stood by m
= side, saying, as he did SO
y al thank you for this pleasure, Dora Dean'
y and l am tempted to ask a favor"
Il * "What is itl" asked for no paused for m
! TO speak.
0I am very fond Of music / want you TO a
= low me TO hear you play every day, while re
main ia New York. / will come in at this wiz
dow, at this hour every morning, and sit quietl
ID 10 yonder chair. shall not disturb you,-
" shall II"
Z, "Oh, let him come, Miss Deane," urged Mr.
.. Barnes, before could answer yes or no.
al have no objection, sir 10 your hearing m
- H. xyhanever you please. l have no cOutr1