The Morristown gazette. [volume] (Morristown, Tenn.) 1867-1920, 1873-09-03

ing VlStaS, ana myrladS OF elHn forms
on the ground and in the
air. For moment I was fascina-
ted, when Ada and Dora, in all their
beauty. rose above the lake, their
stately car seemingly lifted by in
visible hands. I forgot my appre-
and once more breathed
freely.
Suddenly there was a dreadful
crash. and wild cry filed the house.
The car had fallen. For an instant,
L felt rooted to the spot where l was
standing, and then recovering my
senses, rushed forward to learn the
worst. As I made my way through
the narrow passage under the stage,
I heard some one say in pitying
tone: ''Poor thing, she will never
dance again?' Which was it? Ada?
Dora? I fought my way through
the crowd of actors and attendants,
and saw my little Ada lying sense
less in Dora's arms. Throwing my
self on my knees. L took her cold
hands in both of mine. ''My dear
friend" said Dora, who was weeping
silently, sshe is not dead. though
dreadfully hurt. The surgeon will
be here directly, Compose your
self. She is reviving p
My little darling opened her eyes,
with deep sigh, and looked about
her with a bewildered gaze.
'Hush, little one," said Dora,
softly, as she saw Ada was about to
speak. ''Lie still and be patient
till the surgeon comes"
The gentle sufferer closed her eyes,
and her little hands pressed mine
with tender grasp. The surgeon
was soon on the spot. He assured
me that Ada had sustained no fatal
injury, but it was doubtful whether
she would be able to walk again
With a piteous cry, she fell back in
Dora's arms, and tainted dead away.
/ had noticed no one but Ada and
Dora, but at this moment | was con-
scious that the count was kneeling
beside me, and had clasped Dora's
hand. "Better she than you, my
love p he murmured.
Dora gave him quick look of re-
proof. This is no time for love-
making" she answered, withdraw
ing her hand. ''Have you no feel
ing for the poor girl lying here,
whose whole life must be one of
misery and sorrow?'' p
"What is this ballet girl to me?"
answered the count. stung to the
quick, and for a moment thrown off
his guard. "Of course, 1 am sorry
for her." he added the next moment,
but
At this moment Ada opened her
eyes again, and a faint blush strug-
gled with the paleness in her cheeks,
as her gaze fell upon the count. A
beautiful smile played on her tremb-
ling lips. and she reached her hand
toward him. ooh, my love- she
said in a low whisper-a whisper
which first sent the blood mantling
into Dora face and then left it paler
than snow-''you are near and L"
Something in the counts face
stopped her words.
''The girl is wandering he said,
coldly. ''She does not know what
she is saying"
She had tainted again. go,
count, said Dora, hastily. ''Your
presence is not wanted here" Her
manner was decided and even impe-
rious, and the count did not venture
to disobey but as he left he cast
upon Ada a look which caught the
others eye, and from the expression
that came into her face I knew
knew even then, that he would never
more hold a place in her heart.
We, carried Ada home, and through
the long illness which followed, Dora
was her constant nurse and compan-
ion. To this dear friend was conf
ded, with many tears, the secret OF
her heart. The count had won her
love. and had promised to ask my
consent the their union. Unsuspect-
ing and confding, she knew nothing
of his attentions to Dora, and it was
by his wish that she had never men,
toned his name to me. | heard
afterward, that he and Dora met
but once after the accident, and that
he endeavored to defend his perfdy
on the plea that he was only anus
ing himself with Ada, and never had
seriously thought of making her his
wife. $50 much the worse for you,
count said the true-hearted woman.
II shall never be your wife, and
never want to see your face again. :"
We are married now, Dora and I.
From loving Ada she learned in
time to love me. and the sweet and
gentle invalid, who never again will
walk until she steps upon the heay-
enly shore, is happy in our love. No
murmur ever escapes her lips. Her
sweet face is never clouded. Since