The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1869-08-19

point never to take any one into my
service" emphatically--"that don't
bring the very best of references. She
came to me from the Hartsteins--you
know the Hartsteins, Mr.. Britton--a
minister her father was; she's an or
phan. Her only fault is that she's in.
clined to be little above her business,
but shan't be troubled with that. As
| tell MIR. Gibson, when | hire anybody
and pay them with my money, just
give them to understand that they aud
their time belongs to mo-"
There was a hardness underlying the
smile on Mrs. Gibson's horid face as she
spoke, that made Guy sh1dder at its
possible connection with the delicate,
refined face at the window.
"Just walk into music room, Mr.
Britton; would admire to have you
hear her."
al hope | shall not intrudc upon
Miss Deane 7" answered Guy, rising
with some hesitation.
"Intrude y Mrs. Gibson raised her
eyebrows in surprise; "of course she
will be pleased to do whatever | WISH
Laura Deane stood at the piano, patti
emily following the slow movement OF
little Flora Gibson's weary fingers over
the keys.
"Miss Deane," said Mrs. Gibson, i'm
periously, and without deigning any
other introduction, 81 want you to play
aud sing one Of your very best pieces
for my friend, Mr.. Brittou"
Miss Deane's cheek flushed family
as she returned Guys bow, and sat
down at the instrument. She struck u
few chords and sang, "The Captive
Knight" At first, like Tennyson's 5
Leila, she "struck such warbing fury
through the words" that Gay saw the
gleam of spear aud banner, heard the
peal Of the trumpet, and the rush aud
clamor of the host then came the wild,
impassioned longing OF the captive, aud
at last, the wall OF despair over his
dead hope Of liberty.
Guy had never before been more pro.
foundly stirred. The girl sang her very
soul into her words. Such expression
could not be mere art, he thought-it
must be an outgrowth Of her own cx.
perience.
"You have given me n wonderful
pleasure, Miss Deane," he said, in n
low tone, as she finished and Mrs.
Gibson in the full tide of voluble dis.
course, led the way from the room.
Sitting alone that evening in his
pleasant library, Guy was conscious Of
vague sense Of loneliness quite at
variance with the soft light aud warm
coloring of the room Miss Deane's
face seemed to mingle itself indcfnably
with his unrest; and the words and
melody he had heard, sang themselves
over and over in his memory. He rose
and went out of doors, and looking over
the hedge, saw her slender figure pacing
slowly to aud fro in the moonlight. She
moved wearily, he fancied, and he
thrilled with longing to speak to her
and comfort her. Some great sorrow
had set its seal upon her face, he thought.
Had not Mrs. Gibson called her an
orphan I What a sad fate to be thrust
out homeless into the great world-a
nature SO fine as hers must be subject
to the coarseness aud caprice Of an EN-.
ployer like Mrs. Gibson. The very
idea was revolving. Then there foated
In vision faco like hers, opposite him
at solitary meals, or beside his study
fire in the long winter evenings face
from which all traces of sadness should
be gone, and in their place the bright.
ness of new hope aud trusting love.
But while he dreamed, an unconscious
smile softening his features, the figure
disappeared in the shadow Of the tall
mansion; and the voice of his house.
keeper at his elbow, broke the unwont-
ed spell.
The next day he saw Miss Deane
walking in the garden with the young
Gibsons. He hoped sho might come
near enough for him to speak to her !;
but she did not seem to see him, busy
with his pruning-scissors at her hedge.
lie could only look on from distance,
noting her graceful, quiet mien, and
her gentle patience with the wayward
children. Yet he found that as time
passed, even such transient glimpses
had wonderful power to brighten his
days. occasionally there was a bow of
recognition, word or two Of courteous
common-place--once longer conversa-
tion, which charmed Guy by a revcla-
tion of a mind richly stored---no more
than that until one evening, strolling
down by the waters edge, be suddenly
came upon Miss Deane, sitting with her
portfolio on her lap, making little
sketch Of the river and the opposite
bank.
pray don't rise, Miss Deane. You
sketch, | sec."
"Only little. | am quite untaught."
She held out the unfinished pcnciling
as she spoke. Guy looked at it in the
light "You have a native aptitude 10
that direction, them" he said; ''but IL
you will permit me a suggestion, l think
| can show you better position than
this. Here, that group Of trees hides
from you one Of the very finest points
of the Landscape, but just inside my
gate is rustic seat, from which tho
whole view opens up most oharmingly.
Win you come !"
Miss Deaap accepted the Invitation
with unaffected pleasure, but scarcely
was her paper adjusted again, under
Guys superiatepdence, before Mrs.
Gibson appeared on The river path 10