The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1878-02-13
ELuzAsErH.s VALENTINE
RY LOUISE pUPEE

home-sick sighs as she climbed flight
after fight of the dark stairs which
led into her lofty little room She
was 50 deeply absorbed in ber
own sad thoughts that she did not
heed that there was anybody behind
her, until. all of sudden, some one
stood by her side on the landing, and
she looked up into the sensitive face
OF the young artist who occupied the
opposite He lifted his hat with the
greatest politeness. and seemed to
have some desire to linger and say
more than good evening to bis pretty
neighbor who was so shy, and look
ed so lonely; but Elizabeth, though
her smile was very sweet. in some
way discouraged bis efforts to be-
come better scquainted, so be kept
silent.
/ II was a drearv winters night, cold
and dark, with the prospect of COM
| ing storm, and this great city build
ing, crowded with musicians. artists,
teachers, dressmakers, aud homeless
beings of all sorts, never seemed more
desolate to Elizabeth Still, Signor
Morensi was drawing the blithest
carnival straiI from his violin,-if q
violin can ever be said to give utter
anee to bliibe music Little Miss
Brown, the mi liner, who occupied
the next room, was laughing merily
with her mother at their early tea,
which was m lde over the gas. 10 a
little black teapot. Yong Mr..
! Smith, the concert singer, was sing
ing 40 loving heart, trust on !" ia a
truly tot ch ng msnner, at the fur
ther cad of the hal; and the artist,
Mr.. Frank Wilson, had left this door
open, showing the brightest AMI cos
lest of interiors. A bright fire was
shedding its scarlet radiance over
pictured walls, aud Investing every
thing, even the faded furniture, the
worn drapery, and bits of statuary,
with something like splendor Books
were strewn about invitingly, and
boquet of flowers sent lis perfume as
g greeting to every one who ascend
Cd the stairs Elizsbeth's room was
not ike this, bat bare little place,
uncheered by freight, or anything
beautiful except the face of the girl
herself. An old piano stood in one
corner, weighed down with classical
looking music; few chairs, table,
and a sofa, which served also as q
couch by night, were the only arti-
cles of furniture it contained. The
only ornaments. one or two shabby
little vases, and the framed photo
graph of sad-looking woman-Eliz-
sbeth's mother, who died less than 9
year ago. Elizabeth taught music.
She was all alone in the world, and
this little room was what she called
home. She took her dinner at res
taurant, and her breakfast and tea
she prepared herself when she had
the heart to do So On many oeca-
sions sbe went without either. For
tune frowned upon her. She had on
| ly been in the city one year; she had
| hardly enough pupils to pay her own
bills for instruction; and now, after
all these months of tireless labor and
exertion, of hope and perseverance,
the great Signor Bonsri, over st the
conservatory. had informed her that
be feared her voice would never be
of any service to her At first be
had given her much encouragement,
and she indulged in many bright
dreams for the future but now life
seemed likely 10 be always the same
round of thankless drudgery, this
poverty and loneliness Mr.. Wilson
! listened in vain for sound of her
clear. sweet voice this even:ng-de-
| ligbtful to listen t., if Signor Bonari
had condemned it, though doubtless
| il was not of sufficient strength TO be
effective on the stage. He had form
ed habit of leaving his door open,
for the sake of hearing it more dis
tinctly, and it was when be heard
her sing Robin Adair" and "The
Last Rose of Summer" at twilight,
before it was time to light the gas
aud work at those sgonizing exerci-
ses. and the operate selections, that
be had lost his heart He had hard
! ly seen her then-but some persons
/ fall in love with voices, as others
fall in love with eyes; and, as be had
lust been reading Tennyson, be said
to himself, please God, this is the
one voice for me-" But, quite un-
conscious that her singing had al
ready made q conquest, Elizabeth
toiled on, thinking nothing more of
her neighbor than that be had the
pleasaniest smile in the world, and
that il was no wonder that be was
growing famous az an artist, bis pict-
ures were so wonderful She had an
eve for color. and his eoloring, even
the critics allowed, was almost equal
TO tha. Of the old masters. And
sometimes she wondered why be re-
remained in that dreary building, in
stead Of seeking something like q
home. Probably be was attached to
the room, however, be had been
there 80 long.
1t Was quite dark by this time,
| bot Elizabeth, without removing her
things or striking light, threw her,
self on the sofa, aud burst into a food
of tears. Never had the world
seemed SO dark 10 her, never bad she
felt 80 utterly alone. For an hour
or so she remained in this position.
sobbiug as if her heart would break.
when suddenly there came q tap at
the DIOR; and. thinking it was either
the janiIor to inquire something
about the steam, or Miss Brown to
borrow something-M:ss Brown was
always bo-rowisg-or the boy who
did errsnds in the building. who was
always making some excuse to come
TO her room, Elizsbett rose sad
opened the door. 1t was the boy,
and be brought her note, saying
that Mr.. Wilson would like a reply.
aWhat in the world can Mr.. Will
son te writing to me for :" she
thought, hurrying to obtain 8 light,
that she might solve the mystery IL
WAS this =
Il had suddenly struck the young
gentleman. as il was q very dresry