Cleveland morning leader. [volume] (Cleveland [Ohio]) 1854-1865, 1860-07-17
The Step Upon the Path.

heard il first. We were sitting around
the FIRE, one cold clear autumn evening
Elsie Russell, my mother and l. Elsie was
reading aloud to US from quaint old book,
full Of dwarfs and giants, enchanted ladies
and valiant knights; and every now and then
IS she paused to turn Leaf, or make some
merry comment the murmur Of the wind
among the branches of the old elms around
the house came family to our ears, and made
the inner comfort more intense. I could
not see the cheerful room, or the shining of
the fre-ight or the bright young face of
Elsie Russell, or my mothers smooth, white
forehead, and clear, thoughtful eyes, altho'
IcOUld remember them well, OF how well,
Of old. might never hope to gaze on any
Of these things again. Yet l was happy
with that clear voice falling on my ears, and
that tiny hand resting on the table, so close
that could touchit with my hand as did
now and then, by accident. was often then
very miserable; but Just then could have
said, had been called upon TO do so, that
sight was nothing when compared with such
home and such a mother, and that it was
better to be led about, and read to, by Elsie
Russell, than to be independent Of aid, and
unblest by such a sweet friend and comfort
er. In a word, had forgotten past and fu-
ture, and was living only in the preseut,
when a step, one that had never heard be-
fore, broke uPon tho quiet of the HttIo room,
dispensing it utterly-so 1t seemed to me at
least The Others scarcely noticed it.
There is strange footstep upon the
garden path, said I, and I spoke suddenly,
with an Bnquiet futtering of the heart, and
an underlined prescience Of sorrow, for which
l could have given no reason, or rather, for
which was ashamed to give one 10 myself
1t is Tom, my dear; sent him out upon
message before dark, said my mother
kindly.
It is not Tom, mother. | have never
heard that step before, persisted.
g 1t is Tom, in new boots What stranger
would grope his way through the woods, to
this out-Of-the-way place after nightfaIl ~
laughed Elsie. "Be quiet, Paul Blair and
listen to the story, as you value my approba-
ton. The knights about to deliver the en-
chanted lady from her thraldom. Attention"
Ere she could resume her book, however,
q loud peal of the bell announced the fact
that the steps Of which we had been speak
ing, and to which 1 had been listening all
the while, had assembled the porch, and in
another moment Elsie read from a card,
which the servant handed to her, the name
and title Of Doctor Claymore.
Whom / met at the Irvings, last week.
II believe I mentioned him" said Elsie, in
a somewhat confused explanation. "Show
the gentleman in, Dinah"
The strange step fell upon my ear once
more. Across the hall, up to the parlor door
it came; thence, smothered by the velvet
softness Of the carpet, into the room ITSELF
md there paused, very near me. heard
that alone ofa1 the other sounds; words of
welcome and introduction which accompa-
niedit Only when all was quiet again, and
all were seated, could bring myself to lis
ten to the voide of its owner, and try to dis
cover, in my own way, what he was like. A
handsome, gentlemanly man, with that pc
culiar dashing frankneSs of manner which
captivates all women and men, and voice
clear and firm enough TO match his step
this was what l made of him. That he was
possessed of intellect and refinement, and
that he could, at least, express excellent
sentiments, was evident from his conYersa-
ton. The man ofall others to charm Elsie
Russell Thought, and following this, came
a long train Of other thoughts, wrong and
selfish beyond measure. knew them to be
so, and yet could not drive them off Ny
head ached and burned intolerably beneath
their weight and l fingered for my oppor-
tunity TO slip out unperceived At last
heard their voices recede to the cool, open
air. knew the path by heart and feeling
for the little paling fence, turned my steps
towards a small building spoken of rarely,
and then in whispers, by the members of our
| family, as the burnt summer-house"
will tell you a story of that burnt sum-
mer-house. 1t was momentOus one to me,
at least. ....
Elsie Russell was an orphan. In our
richer and happier days, my mother had
adopted her. / was many years older than
the child, and she had been my pet and play
thing from the first hour of her arrival 1
was not blind then, and many a long holiday
spent in amusing and caressing the shy lit
tie beauty, to whom kindness had been an
unknown thing until she came among u.s.
With my own hands l had planted vines
around the bare walls ofan ancient summer
house in the garden, and fitted it up with
cushioned seats and tiny tables for her ex-
press delight; and here, on hot midsummer
va p oAAO AJhCu " I6uu uLu Sew anu SOAAC-
times would fall asleep among the cushions,
curtained by the floating vine branches.
One afternoon had left her thus, and gone
to fish by the water side, my brother being
away upon visit. There was no one in the
house but stupid black servant; and partly
that she might not be disturbed locked the
door Of the summer-house, and placed the
key in my pocket before l started. l had not
idled away half an hour, when casting my
eyes in the direction Of our house, saw a
faint blue wreath of smoke curling up into
the air. As watched, it grew denser, and
felt assured that it came from some burning
building Trembling with apprehension,
hung away my rod and made with all the
speed could muster towards the spot, dread
ing, Iscarcely knew what.
How it ever happened, no one knew but
ere reached the garden the truth was too
evldenti the summer house was in flames,
and Elsie was fastened within the burning
walls. sought in my pocket for the key
Tainly. had lost it. o, hsaYeni what a
] feeling of degnair cana .fJuon ma az I real