Litchfield enquirer., 1873-04-17

the music of Stephen Heiler's ssSleepless Nights, full of wonderful psthos and wild abandon. ...r{ z ,r-.sz =. -.-.T TT .,-
 When the music ceased, and Mir, Ca-- perne looked up,. the clicking of madame's knitting needles ceased too, abruptly. She gave him little peremptory nod from her seat in the corner, rose up briskly. like the resolute nurse she was, and then he knew that his evening was over, and he was to be sent away. sLsE9fT ss1fs5 d.
 1T would rather live than merely exist, :" said MT. Caperne. ''H the pains are keener, so are the joys" Ha $.
 He did not at once get an answer from Lucy, for the s'green" ducks were about her feet, gobbing mp her bounty with noisy enjoyment. while Tony threw stones into the pool for drenched retriever to bring out. Mir. Caperae might have gone on with his philosophy, but Lucy gave him her empty basket, saying lightly ''That's slur on my poor ducks, I sup pose. It is getting late, Mir. Caperne, and the little Cor hangs out foggy signals. You had better go in"
 Mir. Noel Caperne followed, not quite satisfied. He wanted to say something about going away for of course, now that he was comparatively strong again, there was no excuse for remaining but, somehow the words would not come. He looked back upon the days that had pass- ed since he first left his sick-room, and wondered to find that he could not count them. He had had his puzzles and per- plexities. It occurred to him one day, with sudden sense of awkwardness, that he had never known by what name to thank his good Samaritans. When he spoke Of this, stammering, Tony broke into 8 wild it of nonsense, which mad ame checked with an uplifted finger, and a curious compression of her lips.
 'You are not to thank us at all, sir. I thought I had made that plain. As to names," she went on, after little pause, '.you will say Aunt Lucy and Granny, as 12Rey aSss; Ng ze @gaaE fsl J1 P1s SrdRse dRasaedse am French, you know, at least I was. You should feel at home with us now. mon fls."
 The quick red came up into MT. Ga perne's face at the words. Though she had used them before, yet they seemed just then to take Q new significance.
 "Ieli me. said the old lady, softly, ''is It not SO .-.5
 Madame" said Mir. Caperne, s.you have been everything to me,-more than 1 have words to express. :"
 He was ln an abnormal and unreasoninp state of mind. With Lucy he had arrived at that stage when it seems impossible to make use of any name at all, and by and by he forgot all about it. Tonight. as he took his usual seat at the window and watched her closing it carefully, to shut out the river fog for his sake. Mir. Ga perne turned away with great sigh. the meaning of which Tony instantly de- manded, ---.f. .,z-.'' ..
 "I'm like spoilt child, my boy, that's all, replied the painter. "It's time to go back to school, and I'm fractions that my holiday is over"
 Holiday, indeed p repeated Tony. "And what do you want to leave us for ? Hasnt t Granny been good to you? ?"
 "Only too good" he replied,
 "And haven't I?' said Tony. "And hasn't Aunt Lucy? l say she has, al- though you wouldn't give her the portrait, you know" t
 Inyolnntarily the two looked at each other. Mr. Caperne had finished his pic- ture, and meant to keep it: but when Lucy begged for a copy of the bunch of vlolets, what could he do but put his heart and soul into each tiny blossom as 1t rose to life under his hand
 'I tell you it isn't everybody that she cuts the choice flowers for" continued the boy: Don't you like us, Mir. Ca- perne 2"
 "Yes, Tony" he replied.
 Then what's the good of going away?'' said Tony. ''It's curious thing now, isn't 1t ?' continued the young philoso- pher, catching Luey's dress. "Why does one like people ?"
 She only laughed and said it was a question for the chemists, but Noel Ga perns raised his head quickly at that.
 You wouldn't put the wine of life into an alembic, would you ?' said he. eve don't want that alyzed, think"
 He saw the faint color pass over her cheek, and leave it pale again, but she did not answer
 "To be sure" proceeded Tony, return ing to the subject; perhaps you do find 1t bit dull with Granny and Aunt Lucy, but then there's me. And I can show you lots of jolly places where woman-kind would be afraid to venture. You don't know what towards they are. You haven't any belonging to you ?'' .....-.... :. The painters face grew dark. "No, laddie," he replied, "T had sister once.''
 ''Had you ?'' said Tony. "Was she like you? Were you fond of herr" -- Mir. Caperne saw Lucy touch the boys lips with her finger, and he bent forward in a sudden tumult of gratitude:
 Shall l tell you about her ?" he asked.
 '1f you will" said Tony
 T. Caperne gently "Your life seems SO calm and untroubled that it has occurred to me more than once to wonder what you would think of my past if you knew it. What would you say if told you I was once murderer at heart ?''
 Lucy looked up at him, but she did not speak, and Tony drew nearer with ges- ture of profound appreciation. Mir. Ca- perne put his hand on the boys head, but 1t was stilhto Lucy that he spoke.
 ''Yon don't seem half so shocked as you ought, '' he said. Perhaps in these sen- sation days the announcement is not very startling. It is true, nevertheless. Twill tell you about it.
 "My little sister was not strong, and we used to spend the hot months by the sea- side. We'll, Ill one of those months I Aouuo Ous tudG CAhtlC0 aCQualDL40C0 0Gu become more to her than l could be or had been. Ton will understand that it seemed a little hard at first. She was all I had to care for in the world. The stran. ger was poor, hut spoke largely of his hopes for the future; he was barrister. I did what I could. stipulated for a years grace in which to test that large language of his, and they parted. There was little old church standing on the top of the hill, which my sister had al- ways preferred to the more fashionable and crowded town churches below. It was there found her that evening when he was gone; her two hands resting on the churchyard wall, her face looking out seaward towards the sunset; but when she turned at my footstep I knew the light that shone there was not for me any more. @a ts& @& tsaz1a
 My story is not a new one. There came letters, often at first, then more sell dom; at last they ceased. Twelve months after the parting in the churchyard read of that mans marriage. He had sold