The Rutland daily globe. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1873-1877, 1873-10-11

| sullenly, and turned away.
I carefully examined the cords by which
the car was raised. Everything appeared
to be secure and in good order and went
back to my place, trying to laugh myself
out Of my apprehensions. But though it
was easy to argue that all was right, and
that my fears arose merely from some ex-
plcabe disorder of the brain, could not
feel secure. 1 was positive that some
frightful misadventure would occur before
the play was over; and every nerve was
strained in the effort to maintain q calm
| exterior.
The play progressed. The curtain rose
upon the magnificent transformation scene
and the plaudits of the audience grew til
multuous as the splendors unrolled before
by them.At length the car began to risc slow
and majesticaly, to low sweet strains of
music. | watched, with scarcely beating
heart and bated breath, the first appearance
of the beautiful vision--for like a vision it
looked, rising and still rising, the car re-
| splendent with all the tinsel which shone
like gold, and silver, and diamonds. A
sound as Of many tinkling fountains min
ged with the strains of delicious music (;
fairy-land seemed opening upon the sight
with arching bowers and far-reaching WIS.,
tas, snd myrads of clfn forms dsporting
on the ground and in the air. For mo-
ment was fascinated, when Ada and Dora
| in all their beauty, rose above the lake,
their stately car seemingly lifted by inyisi.
bic hands. l forgot my apprehonsions, and
once moro breathed freely.
Suddenly there was a dreadful crash,
and wild cry filled the house. The car
had fallen. For an instant, felt rooted to
the spot whore l was standing, and then
recovering my senses, rushed forward to
learn the the worst. As / made my way
through the narrow passage under the
stage, / heard some one say in plying
tone "Poor thing, she will never dance
again?' Which was It? Ada? Dora?
fought my way through the crowd of actors
and attendants, and saw my little Ada w.
ing Scnseless in Dora's arms, Throwing
myself on my knees, i took her cold hands
in both Of mine. "Nly dear friend" said
Dora, who was weeping silently, 'shc is
not dead, though dreadfully hurt. The
surgeon will he here directly. Compose
yourself. She is reyiving."
My little darling opened her eyes, with a
deep sigh, and looked about her with hc-
wildcring gaze.
FLUSH, little one said Dora, softly, As
sho saw Ada was about 10 speak "Lie
still and be patient till the surgeon comes"
The gentle sufferer closed her eyes. and
her liItic hands pressed mnc with tender
grasp. The surgeon was soon on the spot.
He assured me that Ada had sustained no
fatal injury, but it was doultiul whether
she would h. able t. walk again. With II
piteous cry. she fell back in Dora's arms,
aud tainted lead away.
had noticed no one but Ada ana Dora.
but at this moment | was conscious that the
count was hneelins beside me, and had
claEped Dora's hand "Bctter she than
you, my Lowell" he murmured
| Dora gave him quick look Of reproof
"This is no time for love making" she an
swcred, Withdrawing her hand. "Have
you no feeling Tor the poor girl lying
here, whose whole life must he one of mis-
cry and sorrow?"
"What is this ballet girl to inn?' an
swered the count, stung to the quick and
for moment thrown of his guard. "Ot
course, l am sorry for her he added the
next moment, "but-"
At this moment Ada opened her eyes
again, and fain. blush struggled with the
paleness in her checks, as her gaze fell up
on the count. a beautiful smile played on
her trembling lips, and she reached her
hand toward him. ooh, my love" she
said in low whisper-a whisper which
sent the blood nantling into Dora's face
and then left it paler than snow you arc
near and L"
Something in the counts face stopped
her words.
"Thc girl is wandering" he said, coldly.
She does not know what she is SAYING
"She had tainted again. eco, count,
said Dora, hastily. 'four presence is not
wanted here" Her manner YVES decided
and even imporious, and the count did not
venture to disobey; but rs he left he Ca
upon Ada a look which caught the Others
eye. and from the expression that came into
her face / kncw-knew even then, that he
would never mere hold place in her heart.
We carried Ada home, and through the
long illness which followed, Dora was her
constant nurse and companion To this
dear friend she conf led with many tears the
secret of her heart. The count had won
her love, and had promised to ask my con-
sent to their union. Unsuspecting and con-
filling, she knew nothing of his attentions
to Dora, and it was by lis wish that she
had never mentioned his name 10 me. |
heard afterward, that he and Dora met but
once after the accident and that he en-
deavored TO defend his periidy on the plea
that he was only amusing himself with Ada
and had never seriously thought of making
her his wife. $50 much the worse for you.
count" said the true-heartcd woman. ~
shall never be your wife, and never want
to see your face again"
We are married now, Dora and /. 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
heavenly shore, is happy in our love. No
murmur ever escapes her lips Der sweet
face is never clouded. Since Dora learned
her sad story, the counts name has never
passed my sisters lips, nor has she ever in
any way alluded to him. But Dora found
her one day weeping silently over picture
which she put away without its beng seen.
l have not told how the accident hap
pened. The master machinist, himself
in love with Dora, had cut several strands
Of the cords by which the car was secured.
He openly ayowed his crime, and only re-
GREETED that Dora had not been killed. 'She
rejected me with scorn," he said ON his
trial. 81 was resolved she should never
give her hand to another" lie was man
ifestly maniac. / can never forgive my
self for not watching him more closely af.
ter that encounter under the stage
From the 4ldi3,e for September.