The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1875-06-04


Who Is dead!--St. jones' Maeasi~s.
MISCELLANY.
An ALOE BLOSSOM.
II 10 one of the miserable things in life
that there are people to whom the gift of
expression is denied. We pity those
whose bodily speech is wanting, but no
one pities the spiritually dumb. Their
affection is incomprehensible to us, and
We treat its victims as though in some
way they suffered through their own
fault. No cruelty is meant by this. It
il next to impossible for frank and out.
spoken persons to comprehend that all
cannot speak, and that much suffering
sometimes lies locked in this enforced
silence.
Helen Miles was one of these speech
less souls.
As child she was pale and still. The
aunt who brought her up, and did not
love her, suspected her Of "slyness," ard
openly quoted the proverb about "still
waters" At sixteen she was called ''shy,"
1t twenty-five stigmAtized as cold. Tall,
with good figure and features,
thick light brown hair without the
least gloss or curl, fair,
eolorless skin, graceful hand and
arm, she was entitled to pass for pretty
woman. In fact, women no prettier rank
often as Bellies. But she was not beauti.
full enough for statue, and as a statue
her acquaintance persisted in regarding
her, which certainly vas not fair. She
had some dim consciousness Of this, and
it made her uncomfortable. Her eyes
looked out at times with pitiful, inquir.
ing look-the look We see in dogs eyes
or dos's; look we cannot quite read.
Nobody read Helen's. Two or three
people, attracted by this odd face, made
little experiments, fumbled at the lock of
her impossible reticencc, but it was in
vain; all the lamentations, the ''open
sesames," failed; nothing came of it.
"Oold as stone, my dear!'' women said
of her, and by general agreement she was
set down as person without enthusiasm,
faithfully faultless. icily regular"-a
person who said little because she felt
nothing, to whom generous impulse was
unknown. With such judgment arc
some women judged, and will be to the
end Of the world.
just one crevice existed in this armor
Of ice, THROUGH which at times the real
Helen looked out and revealed herself.
Did say that she sang! Her voice was
low and rich, rather soprano than con.
tralto; its range was limited to a few
notes, but it possessed an extraordinary
pathetic quality. She sang no songs that
other people sang, but took scraps from
this poet and that-Arnold, Tennyson,
Rossetti, Landor--and set them to weird
little harmonies of her own composition.
Nothing Of the limit of her own nature be.
longed to this unique musical faculty, OK.
cept that she could not always sing, or to
oil people, and that there were persons be-
fore whom she could not sing at all. OF
course this only made every one more
eager to hear her. Happy and light.
hearted people find certain luxury in
being made miserable. It was fashion.
able excitement to sit in tho twilight and
have Helen Miles break your heart with
her pathetic voice, and she was greatly in
request; in fact her music constituted
her chief hold on society.
Reginald Thurston remembered long
afterward the night when he heard her.
Mrs. LIE Clerc's drawing.room was dim
with freight as he went in-the light of
. dickering wood fire, which sparkled on
tho sofa where Rosalie Lc Clerc lay, and
sent long sudden shadows across tho
door. From the inner room came the
sound Of singing.
II now you saw me you would say,
NV here is the faco used to prize {"
And would answer. "Gone before,
Il tarries yelled in Paradise"
When once the morning star shall RTE,
When earth with shadow fees away,
And We stand >ate within the door,
You shall lit up the veil th.t day.
Look mp, look on for far above,
Our palms are grown, our place is set;
There we shall meet as once We met.
And love with old familiar love.
So Helen sang, her deep notes conveying
wo{ul passion, which changed Reginald
mood, &nd made him all at once feel sad
dened and chill. He stood in shadow till
the music ended, then moved forward.
''How do you do - said Mrs. LIE Olerc,
her gay, friendly voice coming like relief
after that other. 1--WE are keeping blind.
nnan's holiday, as you see, and Miss Miles
has been singing to US. Can you find a
chair in this darkness, Mr.. Thurston
Here's ono. Oh, Helen, don't stop; 70
co.
But Helen had left the piano and was
moving toward them. Reginald, who was
shaking hands with the invalid Rosalie,
was glad Of this. He did not care for
music IS music, and he hated to have his
feelings drawn upon in society. Besides,
he had some curiosity to see the singer.
She came forward steadily, made an
icy little bend on introduction, and sat
down by tho fire.
"Please, Misc Miles, sing something
else."
excuse me, Resale; not tonight"
"Well." said Mrs. LIE Clerc, III you
won't be persuaded to give US more music,
W Will have the gas.'' She lighted it as
she spoke: Reginald glanced 1t the cool
pale face, framed in it's lustrelcss hair. but
No was not attracted. He liked lively.
vvae,oos women, women who chatted and
entertained him, and with whom he was
not forced to exert himself: Intensely re-.
eerteo' ne MD the fact under an easy.
)ov'el manner. Anecdotes, repartec.
great bursts OF Homeric laughter, these
made up his coat of armor. Peonle uan.
orally did not suspect that he wore INV
Out OF the pulpit he was iuss like othcr
men, they said, the truth being that univ
In the pulpit was he really himself. r.
scarcely noticed Helen again this ov.n-
ing: Not once did they speak, and he