Ashtabula weekly telegraph. [volume] (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1853-1873, 1859-11-26

They always breakfasted in bed some four
hours after my day began, and we only met
at dinner, when there was always one or
more guests. From this one daily meeting,
/ was afterwards excused, and allowed to
dine with Mrs. Briggs, the seamstress and
Mrs. Barnes, the bousekeeper, at an hour
which was nearer the one to which l had
been accustomed
1t was a point was not long in learn
ing, that the more aloof / kept from the
fomly, the more satisfied they would be,
and the happier /. ..'
Time never hung heavy on my hands
Indeed the days were far too short for the
accomplishment of all | wished to do. Ev-
er since my earliest childhood, music had
been my passion. In our little parlor we
had harpschord, once my grandmother's,
afterwards my mothers, then mine On
this | learned to play, without teacher,
and in the evening twilights, with my faith.
er tired with his days study-he was q
clergyman-lay stretched upon his lounge,
l would sit and play the thoughts that fill
ed my brain, until often, he would raise
himself, and resting his head on his hand,
say tenderly,
You play wonderful music, Dora, won
derful music | 4"
Sweet praise from lips so dear
In the school-room of Mrs. Etheridgos
there was piano forte, the one on which
her daughters learned to play, and here l
had liberty to practice as much as pleas
ed. This was generally from five to eight
hours daily, for it was my purpose to teach
music, and thus be independent Ny proud
nature shrank from such life as l was
leading
With my mind fully bent on carrying
out this plan, it was not strange that l i'm
proved. Sometimes l was astonshed at
my own progress, and longed to have a
good musician hear me play. / wanted
somebody to tell me what was wanting, or
wherein / failed-some one who would give
me Just criticism or just praise.
But alas Miss Briggs and Mrs. Barnes
were my only auditors, and both said it was
all beautiful, no matter what l played -
The only real comfort had with them was
one evening when poor little Mrs. Briggs
sat and cried in the corner full hour, be-
cause my music carried her away back into
the country, where she lived when she was
little girl
Dear, simple woman She did not guess
that ], sitting at the instrument the while,
and with dry eyes, was living over again
happy past, in the music my own slight fin
gers made.
A twelve month passed thus. 1t was
June again, and Mrs Etheridge and her
daughters were mapping out their summer
tour. They were worn out with the dissi-
pations Of the fashionable season, and yet
eagerly looking forward to the coming gai-
ties, as if life without balls and dress and
display, were not worth the living.
Poor and lonely as was, / pitied them,
for they were restless, uncomfortable, mis-
erable, unless in whirl of excitement
They had been away from home not quite
week, when cne morning, as l sat at the
piano playing, heard some one bounding
up fight Of steps that led from the gard
en- up to the school, and before had time
to rise, tall, noble looking man walked
in through the open win
dow, and stood beside me-
beg your pardon Miss he said grave
ly, looking earnestly in my face, and, as
you may not grant it without slight ex-
planation, will simply say that my name
is Ernest Everett. l am a nephew of Mrs.
Etheridge-have been away from N. York
nearly four years, and on my return, for
getting that in that period my little girl
consins are probably young ladies, chose
this way of surprising them. / was always
a scapegrace Miss, what shall l call
your"
Dora Deane, if you please SIR I re-
piled, amused at the grave drollery of his
tone and manner.
i was always a scapegrace, Dora Deane,
and never did anything proper in the eyes
of my lady aunt. But in these four years
l am vastly improved
l think he saw my half incredulouS smile,
aud | said quietly
Mrs. Etherdge and her daughters are
this summer they left this city
last Wednesday
am sorry for that, said Mr.. Everett
If had written to them, as / should
have done, they would have waited and
taken me as an escort
l fancied slight shade of irony in his
FoiCe, DuC HIS lace was an enigma IL was
perfectly calm and composed.
l rang the bell for Mrs. Barnes, who was
even more surprised than l at the sight of
the stranger. 1t was some time before she
recognized him, but when she did, the cor
dial grasp in which she held his hand ex-
tended to her; showed plainly that he was
a favorite
Under cover Of hearty words of welcome,
| was about to leave the room, when Mr..
Everett called after me.
Miss Deane, ! heard you playing as l
came up the garden walk Before / go /
would be glad to hear you again. am very
fond of music
She plays beautifully, think, said Mrs.
Barnes, encOuraGingly.
sat down to the instrument, and began.
Never had played better my fingers
seemed thrilled with life. felt like one
inspired. When ceased it was from
sheer exhaustion. l did not look up
had almost forgotten that there
was any one but myself in the room, until
Mr.. Everett came by my side, saying, as he
did So
Il thank You for this pleasure Dora