Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1874-02-25

me all the truth, so far as it had beer
preserved in old records of the family,
1t was in the sixteenth century that
the reigning lady of Draye Court was 6
weird, deformed woman, whose stunted
body, hideous face, and temper which
Taught her to hate and villify everything
good and beautiful for the contrast
offered to herself, made her universally
feared and disliked. One talent only
she possessed it was for music bu.
so wild and strange were the strains
she drew from the many instruments OF
which she was mistress, that the gift
only intensified the dread with which
she was regarded. Her father had died
before her birth-her mother did not
survive it /; near relatives she had none,
she had lived her lonely, loveless life
from youth to middle age. When o
young girl came to the court, no one
knew more than that she was a pool
relation. The dark woman seemed to
look more kindly on this young cousin
than on any one that had hitherto
crossed her sombre path, and indeed sc
great was the charm which Marian's
goodness, beauty and innocent gaiety
exercised on every one, that the ser.
wants ceased to marvel at her having
gained the favor of their gloomy mis-
tress. The girl seemed to feel kind
of wondering, pitying affection for the
unhappy woman; she looked on hel
through an atmosphere created by hel
own sunny nature, and for time all
went we'll. When Marian had been al
the court for year, foreign musician
appeared on the scene. He was q
Spaniard, and had been engaged by
Lady Draye to build for her an organ
said to be of fabulous power and sweet.
ness. Through long bright summer
days he and his employer were shut up
together in the music room-he busy in
the construction of the wonderful in
strument, and she aiding and watching
his work. These days were spent by
| Marian in various ways-pleasant idle
ness and pleasant work, long canters on
her chestnut pony, dreamy mornings by
the brook with rod and line, or in the
village near, where she found a welcome
everywhere. She played with the chill
dren; nursed the babies, helped the
mothers in thousand pretty ways,
gossiped with the old people, brighten
ing the day for everybody with whom
she came in contact. Then in the even
ing she sat with Lady Draye and the
Spaniard in the saloon, talking in that
soft foreign tongue which they generally
used. But this was but the music be-
tween the acts the terrible drama was
coming. The motive was of course the
same as that of every life drama which
has been played out from the old, old
days when the curtain rose upon the
garden scene of Paradise. Philip and
Marian loved each other, and having
told their happy secret to each other,
they as in duty bound, took it to their
patroness. They found her in the
music room. Whether the glimpse she
caught of beautiful world from which
she was shut out maddened her, or,
whether she, too, had loved the for
eigner, was never certainly known, but
through the closed door passionate
words were heard, and very soon Philip
came out alone, and left the house
without farewell to any in it. When
the servants did at last venture to en-
ter, they found Marian lifeless on the
floor, Lady Draye standing over her
with crutch uplifted, and blood flowing
from a wound in the girls forehead.
They carried her away and nursed her
tenderly; their mistress locked the
door as they left, and all night long re-
manned alone in darkness. The music
which came out without pause on the
still night air was weird and wicked
beyond any strains which had ever be-
fore flowed even from beneath her
fingers it ceased with morning light I;
and as the day wore on it was found
that Marian had fled during the night,
and that Philips organ had sounded its
last strain-Lady Draye had shattered
and silenced it forever. She never
seemed to notice Marian's absence, and
no one dared to mention her name.
Nothing was ever known certainly of
her fate, it was supposed she had joined
her lover.
Years passed, and with each Lady
Draye's temper grew fercer and more
malevolent. She never quilted her
room unless on the anniversary of that
day and night, when the tapping of her
crutch and high-heeled shoes was heard
for hours as she walked up and down
the mushroom, which was never en-
tered save for this yearly vigil. The
tenth anniversary came round, and this
time the vigil was not unshared. The
servants distinctly heard the sound of
of mans voice mingling in earnest
conversation with her shrill tones they
listened long, and at last one of the
boldest ventured to look in, himself
unseen. He saw worn, travel-stained
man dusty, footsore, poorly dressed,
he still at once recognized the handsome
gay Philip of ten years ago. He held
in his arms a little sleeping girl her
long curls, so like poor Marian's, strayed
over his shoulder. He seemed to be
pleading in that strange musical tongue
for the little one; for as he spoke he
lifted, o, SO tenderly, the cloak which
partly concealed her, and showed the
little face, which he doubtless thought
might plead for itself. The woman.
with furious gesture, raised her crutch
to strike the child ; he stepped quickly
backwards, stopped to kiss the little
girl, then, without a word, turned to
go. Lady Draye called on him to re-
turn with an imperious gesture, spoke
few words, to which he seemed to listen
gratefully, and together they left the
house by the window which opened on
the terrace. The servants followed
them and found she led the way to the
parsonage, which was at the time unoc-
cupied. 1t was said that he was in
some political danger as well as in deep
poverty, and that she had hidden him
here until she could help him to better
asylum. 1t was certain that for many
nights she went to the parsonage and
returned before dawn, thinking herself
unseen. Blu. one morning she did not
come home, her people consulted to-
gether, her relenting towards Philip
had made them feel more kindly to-
wards her than ever before; they sought
her at the parsonage, and found her
lying across its threshold dead, q phial
grasped in her rigid fingers. There was
no sign of the late presence of Philip
and his child it is believed she had
sped them on their way before she had