The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1868-12-04
BIDDEFORD, ME-, FRIDAY
As she entered the great saloon, blazing
with liVht her heart failed her.

As she entered the great saloon, blazin,
with light. her heart failed her.
"Shall love him rs dearly" she asket
herself, ''lf | find he Is ashamed Of me?
cannot bear the thought; but should h,
overcome all conventional notions, then
have u husband TO be honored, and thei
he shall be proud of his wife,"
How she watched him rs he presented
her to one and another.
simple" whispered magnificent girl
resplcn,lcnt with diamonds, rs she cnrlct
her lips and passed by. The observation
escaped neither Helen nor her husband
She looked ut him. lie smiled lover
smile, and only drew her closely to hi
side. Many In that brilliant gathering
pltied poor Fred, and wondered why IN
had martyred himself OIL the shrine Of lg
norant rusticlty.
But he! o, Joy! he seemed to love hel
the more as she clung to his arm so tim
idly, his noble face expressed the pride III
truly felt, he looked Us II he would have
swept back the scorners with one motiOi
OF his hand. had they ventured one wave
to high OH the score Of his pride. He seem
ell to excuse every look. every word, MOI
In strict conformity to etiquette; and Hell
ems heart beat high, and tears came tC
her eyes. when she felt how noble hear,
she had won.
The young bride stood near her husband
talking In low tone, when q new GOMEZ
appeared. She was n beautiful, slightly
formed creature, with naughty features
lll-concealed scorn lurked In the brilliant
eyes whenever she glanced towards Hell
en-. Once she held sway over his heart
and hearing whom he had married, she
fancied her time had come.
"DO you suppose she knows anythingr
whispered u low voice near her.
lIelen's eyes sparkled. her face flushed
Indignantly. She turned to her husband
lie was gone, speaking at u distance will,
a friend.
"Do you play, Mrs. Lane?" she asked,
There was u mOcklng tone In her voice.
~ little." answered Helen, her cheeks
blushlng.
"And singg'
~ little" was the half reply.
'.rhen do us u favor" exclaimed Miss
Somers, looking askance ut her compan-
Ions.
''Come, myself will lead to the instru-
ment."
IIark. whose mastery touch? Instant
" was the half.spOken word arrested, the
cold ear and naughty head were turned In
listening surprise. Such melody! Such
correct intonatiOns! Such breadth, depth
and vigorous touch. Who Is she? She
plays like an angel!
And again hark! a voice rolls-a flood
OF melody; clear, powerful and passing
sweet; astonishment gives many a faint
cheek deep scarlet. There Is u deep ST.
lencc unbrOken, and the silver strains float
up:
Ave, care not for cold neglect
Though tears unbidden start,
And scOrn l. hut q bitter word
save when Il breaks the heart.
if one be true,
The world may careless be,
since may only keep my love.
And tell my grief TO thee.
"Glorious voice!" said Fred, to his
friend, who with the rest had paused to
listen.
"Who can She"
The words were suddenly arrested on
his lips. She turned from the piano, and
the unknown was his wife!
IL congratulate you, Fred" said the
marble. The color had left his cheek rs
he walked slowly toward her.
Ii he was speechless with amazement,
so was not she. a rich bloom mantled
her cheek, triumph made her eyes sparkle
as they never did before: they flashed
like diamonds. A crowd gathered to COM
pllment her. In u graceful acknowledges
ment she blended wit and humor.
slow well she talks; who would have
thought itg He has found u treasure"
was whispered all around the room.
Meanwhile. Frederick Lane stood like
one enchanted, while his little rustic wife
quoted books with perfect abandon, ad.
inired this one, condemn ed that.
A sedate looking student lost himself In
n Latin quotation! Helen smilingly finish
ell Ii. and she received look Of eloquent
thanks. BOnmOts. repartee, language rich
with fancy and imagery, fell from her
beautiful lips, rs IL they had received a
touch from some fairy hand.
Still Frederick was by her side like one
In dream, and pressed his hands over his
bcwildered eyes to be sure OF his senses,
when he saw her bending. u breathing
vision Of loveliness, over the harp, her
full arm leaning on Its golden strings,
and he heard again that rich voice, now
plaintive with some tender memory, rise
and fall In sweet and sorrowfll cadence.
"Tell me-" he said when alone, "what
does this meang feel like one awakened
from DREAM"
"Only q country girl" said Helen, then
falling into her husbands arms, she cN-
claimed, ..fors i've me, am that little rus
tic that you would sooner die than wed.
Are YOU sorry you married meY"
'Sorry? my glorious wife! But, Helen,
you could not deceive. Did not under
stand you had never"
.Been ut an academy" she broke In {;
.nevcr took music lesson, never was
taught to sing, all very true. and yet am
all you see me here tonight, myself my
own teacher; with labor and diligence, l
hope am worthy to be the wife Of one so
good and exalted rs find my husband to
be-"
Reader, wouldn't you and like to be
there just now and hear her story, and see
the dimples and bright smiles on her
pretty face, rs she tells how she banished
the plano, books, harp, portfolio, music:
all In an empty room by themselves, and
locking the door, leaving them to seclu-
sion and dust, while the country girl.
without any deep laid scheme, succeeded
In convincing the wcll-bred city gentleman
that he could marry a charming rustic, II
her fingers were more familiar with the
churn and knittlng-needles, than with the
piano and booksy
h.. I-.a-. n. ~.