Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1874-04-25
NOT LOST.

Let me recount to you a true story;
story of love pure and undetiled-
love as it was in the beginning, is
now, and ever shall be, world without
end.
For love is all thingi in one to us.
It is hope and fear and Joy and des-
pair: it is truth and it is falsehood; it
is anything, in short, that you are
pleased to call it, and it can represent
the brightness of heaven or the black
ness of perdition.
''Love is a melting ofthe soul''
It was late in the afternoon of a
dull autumnal day that a group of
Young people came chatting down the
flight of stone steps leading from the
door of a cathedral church, in an old
Atlantic seaport town They were
members of the choral society at
tached to the church, and they had
evidently been there for rehearsal d.
Within, the great building yawned
black and lonely, save in the gallery,
where, over the organ. a gas-jet spun
rays of light in the gloom, and the
sound of softly subdued veices broke
through the stiffness.
The visible occupants were two. a
man and maiden-young, and with
/ the cabalistic word, writing of old on
the wall, on their foreheads. Robert
Field, the organist, was turning over
some sheets of manuscript music
with an absorbed air, while by his
side stood Hester Heathersleigh, her
pretty face full of anxious interest as
| she watched his movements. A little
cloud of uneasiness wrinkled her fore
head now and then as she saw the
rent edges of angry clouds scud by
the narrow slit of window giving to
the east where the gray sea lay tos-
sing stormily.
'sWeIl, Robertr she said at last,
dropping her slim hand on his shoul-
der. 'Well, Robert, what is it2''
The musicians dark, serious face
lighted a moment, glOriously, as he
turned and took the little ungloved
hand in his.
at asked you to stay, Hester, be-
cause wish to play for you some pas
sages from my new piece. l shall
submit to the society at Music Hall
tomorrow evening, and want your
opinion in advance"
The young girl laughed-a little,
ripping laugh of glceful enthusi-
asm.
'sMy opinion Why, Robert, you
know beforehand what that will be.
1t would be nothing but form ask
ing it."
Robert raised the little hand tender
ly to his lips.
ST know that love makes gentle crit
les of us all, he said, wisely. ''But
now / want you to forget who is the
author of the melody, and to exercise
your Judgment without stint. Re
member, two, that love is the theme !;
love which, wisely or unwisely, hopes
all things, believes all things, and en-
dures all things unto the end" And
then he turned to the organ.
He played slowly at first. 1t was
o lonely opening, full of strange, sad
chords, as if q soul were waiting some
where in shadow. Then, as bright
ness entered, the theme asserted it
self. The wonderful tones climbed
higher and higher, expressive of q
great faith, of fond, mad triumph,
and bewildering Joy. On and on the
chords swept, it was as if living chain
of light ran round the world,
When he had finished there was ST.
lence for q moment between these two.
| The lingering echoes rolled back and
forth till one by one they, too, escap-
/ ed into stiffness. Then Hester Heath
ersleigh stopped, and, with quivering
lips and tear-wet eyes, reverently
kissed the bowed forehead of her loY-
er.
''Oh, my darling!' she cried, it is
so beautiful! l am so proud of you.
Who taught yon to play like that?"
A proud and satisfied smile curved
Robert Fields lips as he listened.
"My love for you taught me-" he an
swered. ''My love for yen, which is
so great, so all-absorbing, that my
music seems to be but poor express
sion of it.
Then lifting her head he for a mo,
ment looked with wistful tenderness
into the rose-pink beauty of her small
sweet face.
''You think it is a triumph then,
dear? All, Hester, are you sure you
speak for the music itself, or only out
of a tender mercy born of your love
for me?'
An indignant light frightened the
pretty violet eyes out of the drOWsy
languor of youths enchanting dreams
Tender mercy for you, she re
peated. Then her voice changed
:.Ah, Robert if my love can make yor
write like that now, then your future
life shall be full of inspiration, for ]
shall love you more and more the
longer 1 know you. 1 shall love you
more and more forever"
She wound her arm about his neck
and with tender, maiden sweetnes.
kissed his forehead, and kissed hi.
wavy hair, and kissed the thin, pale
hand which lay nervously on the vel
low organ keys. And then a stillnes:
erept about them, a stiffness moro
fraught with eloquent Joy than any
measure of golden speech could have
been.
While they thus stood hand in hanC
talking the curtain behind them par
titioniag of the long gallery parted
and dark face peered through. I