The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1878-10-05

way through the village street, he did
not fail to insist: "My folks must hear
you sing. Our dominic must hear you.
That song is good enough for Sun
day. And Mr.. Harry Barton, if he
comes to town-meeting next week, as |
don't doubt he will, must hear it too@
Mrs. Rinaldo replied, hesitatingly;
Il could not sing that song for stran-
gers, you know, but I'll sing it any
time you like for you or for your wife
if | stay" ...
"You must stay" said Mr. Brewster,
with a warmth in which mercenary
interest had no part.
When summer reached mid-July,
! and the season of summer boarders was
at its height, music had become an alb
sorbing attraction at the River House.
The bewitching Mrs. RinaldO, with her
extraordinary gift, drew around her,
evening after evening, not only the
transient guests, but the resident vii
lage people. Her duets with Mr. Harry
Barton became famed. Even the girls
who secretly adored that splendid
! fellow" and who suffered keen dread
of the strangers potent fascination,
yielded to its spell, and grouped them
selves admiringly around. AS for
Harry Barton himself, it was rumored
that his light heart, free and glad as
bird, and hard to win, was already
drawn into. this ensnaring charm.
What Harry Barton really felt of at
traction to Mrs. Rinaldo was brought
to proof one moonlight evening, when
he walked home from Friday lecture
with the beautiful woman, who now, as
they entered the willow-arched lane
leading from the high-road, in moon-lit
solitude, changed from her usual gay
mood to one so sad that no chivalric
heart, least of all the kind and manly
heart of Harry Barton, could have been
unmoved.
She spoke of the sorrows of her life,
her lonely widowhood, and with such
simple pathos dwelt upon her devotion
to her little crippled boy, that Harry
Barton pressed her hand and sighed
audibly.
''Often," she said, ''when L seem
most gay, my heart is breaking. 1t is
indeed; and l may say to you, whose
life is so sunny, that you will hardly
comprehend, perhaps, that sometimes
sometimes in the darkness | have
been tempted to fly from life. If it
were not for my boy-and must be all
to him-I have wished thatI were dead.
am surrounded by fiatterers, | know.
But there is no one to really advise me,
no one entirely to confide in, and to
trust; at least no one that L" And
here Mrs. Rinaldo paused.
The pause gave space for consola-
ton, and Harry Barton used the most
gentle, cheering words he could, but
they failed to remove the shadow from
the pleading, saddened face. AS they
stood together silently moment be-
fore saying goodnight" an ex-
preston crossed this clouded face that
gave Harry Barton pain; swift, vague,
and underlined, it awakened an emotion
of repulsion, of dislike. But it is diff
cult for the generous heart to imagine
guile, and the depreciative suggestion
of distrust was banished as soon as it
was formed. He said to her with genu-
inc tenderness, as they parted at the
tardily opened door:
Promise me that you will not brood
over your sorrow tonight; go to the
side of your little child, and try to
sleep in trusting peace. l shall be wish
ing you happy dreams Promise me
that you will try to Danish gloomy
thoughts, and have happy dreams to-
night" ....
Once more the look he liked not
crossed his companions face, once
more he banished vague distrust. And
then they parted
He decided to himself going home:
81 have sung songs enough with this
impulsive little woman. fear she is
unconsciously giving me her heart.
cannot love her as man should love a
wife, and will not trifle with her. l
bid her good-by tonight
He took up dropped plan of months
ago, said to his ever-indulgent uncle,
II have decided, sir, to accept your
! proposition of year abroad" and one
week after the Friday evening walk
sailed for Europe. People thought he
had offered himself to Mrs. Rinaldo
and had been refused, and the circle of
admiration for her was intensified by
this interesting belief.
Henry Barton studied while abroad
everything that could yield instruction
suitable to the purpose of his life, the
purpose for which he had been solely
educated-the management and cult
walton of the broad estate which would
be his inheritance, and was already his
delight He intended that his farms
should be models of Embarrassing and
grain-bearing, and unrivalled in the
quality of live stock. He made these
his special considerations in travel, and
every well-known feature of the broad
domain that he had loved from boy
hood became associated definitely with
a careful plan.
But during the twelvemonth he spent
in the Old World a great change befell
his fortunes. His uncle married Mrs.
Rinaldo, and soon afterward died,
leaving to her and her child his whole
fortune, with the exception of few
legacies to charities, and a yearly
stipend to his nephew so inconsidera-
BILE that the remembrance had hardly
J an affectionate worth.
Harry Barton was on his way home
when the tidings of his uncle's death
and of his last will reached him. The
J effect upon his mind after the first
shock of grief-for he had loved the
| old man as he would have loved q