The Beaufort tribune and Port Royal commercial. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1877-1879, 1877-10-18

1
a sketch and christened it st. Cecilia"
Excellent! That heavy coil of
hair, that sweep of drapery, and that
absorbed look are all perfect"
"And 30 like her !"
"Mr. Kenneth must have made quite
study of the lady's face and figure, -
Alice Fleming said, with a somewhat
derisive smile. "He ought to have a
vote of thanks"
"But am afraid Miss Cuthbert, on
the contrary, is displeased with me-" the
proprietor of the sketch-book remarked,
doubtfully.
"Indeed, no." the governess hastened
to say. "I am very glad you thought
my face worth sketching. It has never
been so much honored before"
"She owes you more substantial
thanks, Kenneth" said Mr.. Finnis, with
a laugh. "She ought to take the very
attitude you have depicted, and repay
you by giving us a song. All, Miss
Cuthbert, don't say no p
The governess shrank back.
"You must excuse me. I'm not in
the mood for singing"
"Must one be in the mood?"
s.Pray obige Mr.. Kenneth, Miss
Cuthbert, " said Bertha, maliciously.
81 really can not.
"When she says she can not, she
means she will be urged"
The importantly, half joking, half
serious, was continued, until Alice Flem-
ing, who was already annoyed by the
affair of the portrait, quite lost patience.
CT never before" she said, coldly,
"have seen Miss Cuthbert attempt the
role of the prima donna in society. She
does it very well but really think we
have had enough of it.
Utter and amazed silence followed this
speech. No one knew what to say. Amy
Cuthbert crimsoned to the temples, and
walked straight to the piano, struggling
hard to keep back the tears that threat
ened to overflow.
Still possessed by the sadness and ex-
hausted by the excitement of the after
noon, the effort of singing had seemed
impossible. But no, sooner had she
touched the keys than she became con-
scious of an imperative desire almost a
necessity-of expressing her mood In
music. Stopping abruptly in q light
prelude, she tossed aside the sheet of
music before her. Only few days be-
fore she had set to music a little poem
that had struck her fancy, and now,
without premeditation, she began to
sing it, feeling as if all the sorrow and
despair in her soul were floating out on
the notes.
Higher, sweeter, the voice rose,
freighted with infinite sadness and
yearnin g, startling the careless listeners
into attention. The passionate tones,
soaring above them, seemed singing the
drge Of hope.
"Upon my word, said Miss Fleming,
looking around the circle of astonished
faces, as the last note died away, "Miss
Cuthbert seems to be the sensation of
the EVENING"
"By Jove I" exclaimed an exquisite
beside her, remembering to raise fan
he had dropped five minutes before,
"you may we'll say that. Shed make
sensation any where.
The singer was surrounded, and eager
" complimented.
"What is that song?" one after
another inquired.
"Only little poem called 'Woman's
Birthday"
"Surely you don't mean to stop. Sing
something else"
But Carl Kenneth, at her side, said,
imperatively, "Come out into the air !;
you look really i'll. Pray don't ask any
thing farther of Miss Cuthbert," he
said to the others. "She has given me
nay song that is enough"
Only to glad to get away from the
crowd and the lights, the governess ac-
cepted his offered arm. Ill enough she
felt, indeed, as they paced down the
garden path in the waning moonlight.
All her excitement had passed into In
tense languor-a WEAKNESS so great
that she was glad to sink down on a
garden seat at the end of the walk. But
remembering her resolution of the after
noon, she half rose as her companion
threw himself on the grass at her feet.
81 ought to go in. 1 forgot that
Mrs. Fleming sent for me to play
Bertha's accompaniment.
"Ah no dor't go back amongst all
those people. Stay here In the moon
light, and let me talk to you"
Another wave of the self-scorn which
had Inundated the governess that after
noon seconded his entreaty. "Why,"
Amy Cuthbert said to herself" Why
should she not sit down and talk to Mr..
Kenneth as any friend or acquaint-
ance would do? Why need she be 80
foolish-she who had buried romance
forever?
81 shallbe glad to have you talk to
me; and tell me about that last pic
ture you were 80 much interested in,
she responded.
81 have not touched it for week. l
am tired of attempts in art" and the
young aristocrat moodily tossed his
heavy hair away from his brow. II be-
ieve I shall keep only one picture of all
those have painted this summer"
"And what is that? % she asked, un-
suspectingly.
GA st. Cecilia.
Amy Cuthbert could not repress q
start at this unexpected reply. Neither
could she at once find aitting rejoinder.
She sat in silence, idly pulling to pieces
blossom of Virginia creeper, thankful
that shadows hid her face.
"No, I will not keep that piece
either" her companion continued, i'm
petuously.. 81 do not want to remember
you with that cold, pure, rapt expression
I have depicted. Twill rather paint you
as Madonna-a happy, radiant, beau
tiful woman"