The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1876-04-01

worked mother gave only a momentary
tug at the tixedness of her purpose.
9 ! will come back to her." she said, as
she twinkled shower of peaTy drops
from off the tips Of her pink toes. 81
will come back to her when | am rich and
famous. She will forget the pain | gave
her, and be proud even of my waywaldness
| will love her so that she shall forget the
pain
: *
A round harvest moon hung full and
clear in the heavens, and the earth slept
wrapped in the sheeted palors of its pure
beams. Over swathes Of graded grain and
mounds of fresh mown hay; over peaceful
herds chewing the cud Of rest and content
ment: over farm house and cottage stream
ed the siveIy light, as Berta Figlia looked
piteous good-by upon the sleeping moth
er-face she dared not risk impressing with
a parting kiss; and passed out into the
humid night. Just outside the gate she
paused, half repentaut. One backward
glance might have broken her determine
cry, and an answering note trilled from
between her pallid lips. With choking
gasp she crushed back the rising throe of
her faltering heart, and like startled lap
wing flew over fragrant clover through
! mandrake beds, under dew-wct arches of
wreathing eglantine, straight on to where
the old horse chestnut threw its deepening
shadows far out into the grassy field.
A sigh of satisfaction and relief escaped
from the lips of him who waited there in
the gloom as the flying figure, now clearly
defined in patch Of mellow light, came
through the night and halted at his side.
81 am come" breathed she. '.Will
you keep youI promise -
Faithfully. BY the heavens above"
began the man.
"Swear not at all gravely interrupted
/ Berta. "To crafty my ambition, to Gull
| tivate the power God has given me, have
stolen away from the mother who has loved
| and cherished me, like guilty thing. l
/ have only your word on which to pin my
| faith. If the truth be on your lips, when
| have won the fame | covet, | shall bless
you as the genius of my success; but, if
you deal traitorously with me- then the
curse of mothers heart will follow you
into eternity
Words are idle. Let the sequel prove
whether | am Il man or villain. Come!
The train is due at the Junction in twenty
minutes. We can talk at length on this
matter when the ron-holSe is bearing us
on towards the scene of your future tri-
umrhs.'
One by one the months glided into years,
and repeated themselves, and fair, pale
girl counted them as one step nearer the
GROWING of her hopes. Her whole soul
was absorbed in the art to which she had
consecrated ler young life. She studied
and sung as other people breathe. Her
character was harmony itself. She wept
in time and sighed in concord. The musi-
cal element was developing in her grandly,
but at the seeming expense of every other
sentiment. The face of nature was beau
tiful to her only as it appealed to her ear
through sounds. and she would listen for
hours with abated breath to the exterior
and interior harmOnies of rustling foliage,
murmuring waters, ticking of the clock,
the signing winds, the FLASHING millwheel
or the pattering raindrops; but she lost
sight of human passions-of love, faith,
sorrow and joy, as they gladden. or rend to
distraction the ma iority of Gods creatures.
In the last year of her probation the
story of that wonderful soprano voice was
told, and the most celebrated masters and
critics Travelled to hear and judge of her
powers. Some went away rejoicing, as
only Il musician can rejoice, over the per-
lection of vocalzation; Others with envy
and chagrin, closed their ears to the merits
of so hopeless a rival.
And still she toiled on, never satisfied
with herself-never relaxing one iota of
the wearsome drill until the grand hour of
her triumph came, and La Scala rang with
the plaudits of an enthusiastic audience.
She had literally to tread path Of
flowers in retiring from the stage, and as
/
blossoms tluttered down like a white dove
and caught in the feathery laces above her
! throbbing breast. she raised it caressin9ly
to her lips, then with an indescrbable grace
carried it to her heart and with one swift
glance towards the managers box she van
ished in the wings
"Shall | have my reward, or did the
familiar blooms stir up old memories, and
thoughts of her mother force fopdness into
her eyes? - mentally asked the man, as he
turned away from the scene of his pro-
tege's successful debut proud, yet only half
satisfied
| American interest and curiosity were on
the qui oice Flaming posters and the press
enthusiastically announced the opening
night of Bertolacci. the new primd donna,
| in New York. Foreign bulletins were
widely copied, the fiat of the mighty few
had gone forth, and expectation was Iur-
| ming high in anticipation of the moment
when the caRtatrice should make her first
bow to an audience of her country people.
While the printers ink was drying, soci-
| ETY. discussing what it should wear, and the
| chorus rehearSing, a man and woman stood
! beneath a horse chestnut tree whose Au-
tumn livery of gold and crimson drifted
helplessiy in the soft Indian Summer
| breeze.
81 have been true Berta. You are
! famous. l have given you back to your
| mother stainless as you were the August
| night YOU left her. have waited long and
patiently-now may | claim my reward"'
/ asked he.
II am yours, maestro. Through you
/ am what | am. Take thine own. Would
| that it were worthier Offering
! "My queen, My singing bird. ask no
more of Fate. Beneath these shades
wooed thee; beneath these shades | won
thee. and beneath these shades ] will wed
| thee"
Eyes but not until | have finished my
! engagement for the season. | must make
the triumphal tour as you call it,
Il am impatient of delays, my sweet;
! but your will must henceforth be my law"
/ So it was finally arranged that they were
to be married when the breath of Spring
/ had covered their trysting tree with feath-
cry garlands of bridal white. They travel
ed from city to city, adding leaf by leaf to
! hnr louyol wreath He who had learned to