The Opelousas journal. [volume] (Opelousas, La.) 1868-1878, 1874-01-02

I
laugh myself out of my apprehenslons
| But though it was easy to argue that al
was right, and that my fears arose mere
| ly from some inexplieable disorder O.
| the brain, I could not feel secure. | Wat
| positive that some frightful misadven
| ture would occur before the play wa!
| over; and every nerve was strained II
| the effort to maintain calm exterior.
The play progressed. The curtain rose
! upon the magnificent transformation
scene; and the plaudits of the audience
| grew tumuftuOns as the splendors I'M
rolled before them. At length the cal
began to rise slowly and majestically, tt
| low, sweet strains of music. I watched
with scarcely beating heart and bated
breath, the first appearance of the beau
tifuL visiOn-tfor like vision it looked
| rising and still rising, the chr resplend-
ent with all the tinsel which shone like
gold and silver and diamonds. A sound
as OF many tinkling fountains mingled
with the strains of deliciOusmu fairy
land seemed opening upon the sight
With arching bowers and far-reaching
vlstas, and myriads of elfin forms dis
porting on the ground and in the air.
For moment [ was fascinated, when
Ada and Dora, in all their beauty, rose
above the lake, their stately car seem
Ingly lifted by invisible hands. forgot
my apprehensions, and once more breath
ed freely.
Suddenly there was a dreadful crash,
and q wild cry filed the house. The car
had fallen. For an instant, Ifeltrooted
to the spot where | was standing, and
then recovering my senses, rushed for
ward to learn the worst. AS made my
way through the narrow passage under
the stage, heard some one say in pity
ing 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 lying senseless in Dora's
arms. Throwing myself on my knees,
| took her cold hands in both of mine.
\" Ny dear friend" said Dora, who was
weeping silently, "she is not dead,
though. dreadfully hurt. The surgeon
will be here directly. Compose yourself.
She is reviving!"
Ny little darling opened her eyes, with
a deep sigh, and looked about her with
a bewildered gaze. a
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
a 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 he able to
walk again. With a piteous cry, she fell
back III Dora's arms, and tainted dead
away. r. ... ..-.-.s
Ihad noticed no one but Ada and Do
H. a+A
that the count was kneeling beside me,
and had clasped Dcra's hand. Better
she than you, my love!" he murmured.
Dora, gave him a quick look of reproof.
/" This is no time for love-making," she
answered, withdrawing her hand.
\" Have you no feeling for the poor girl
lying here, whose whole life must be
one of misery and sorrowq"
S"What is this ballet girl to me ?n an
swered the count, stung to the quick
and fora moment thrown off his guard.
's0f course, am sorry for her," he adj
ded the next moment, "but-"
At this moment Ada opened her eyes
again, and faint blush struggled with
the paleness in her cheeks, as her gaze
fell upon the count. A beautiful smile
played on her trembling lips, and she
reached her hands towards him. "Oh,
my love-" she said in a low whisper-a
whisper which first sent the blood mant-
ling into D0ra's face and then left it
paler than snOw-"you are nearand II
Something in the counts face stopped
lf5zsrs sVgf1ffiS5zs s@e=fasse
"ThR girlis wandering,v y hesaid, cold
ly, "She does not know what she is
saying" ~
She had tainted again. SEQ, eount,n
said Dora, hastily. Your presence is
not wanted here.n Her manner was
decided and even imperious, and the
count did! not venture to disobey; but
as he left he cast upon Ada look which
cauRht the others eye, and freaa the ex-
preston that came intoher face knew
knew even then, that he wauld never
mere hold place in her heart.
Wetcarried Ada home, and through
the long illness which followed, Dora
was her constant nurse and companion.
60 this dear friend was c0nfded with
many tears the secret of her heart. The
count had won her love, and had pronais-
ed to ask my consent to their union.
Unsuspecting and confding, size knew
nothing of his attentions to Dora, and
it was by bis wish that She had never
nientinued his name to meA / heard
that he and Dora met but
once after the accident, and that he en-
deavored to defend bis peifidy on the
plea that he was only amusing himself
with Ada, and never had seriously
thought of making her his wife. So
much the worse for ayou, count, said
the true hearted woman. [ shall never
be- your Wifes and never want to see
your faee again" -
We are n1arried now, Dora and /.
From loving Ada she learned in time to
love me, and the sweet and gentle in
valid, who never again will walk until
sile steps upon tho heavenly shore, is
happy III our love. N8fi1uTmnr ever es-
canes her lips. Her sweet face is never
cl0uded. Since Dora learned her sad
story, the counts name has never passed
nv sister 's lips, nor has she ever in any
way alluded to him. But Dora found
her one day weeping silently over a pic
ture which she put away without its
being seen.
peneCl. The master machinist, himself
in love with Dora, had cut several
stYasaas Uf the eoTtls by which the ear
was secured. He openly ay0Wed his
crime, and only regretted that Dora had
not been killed. aShe rejected me with
scarn he said on the trial. q was re-
solved she should never give her hand
10 aRotlser1 He was manifestly q ma
lliae. can never forgive myself for
not watching him more closely after
that encounter under the tage,lAl-
dine for September
Herbert Spencer takes strong ground
ill his last article in favor of q culture
to making the higher feelings
stronger, rather than tho eagHitions
clearer, alleging that behavior Is not
as.ferrninaa by knnMledge. but by emo