Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1880-06-09

perhaps II didn't look wel.'
"Not look we'll, indeed !" and he laughed
in merry scorn. "Why, child, did you ever
hear Of Camilla Urso 2"
"No."
"Well, she is lady, and she makes the
most exquisite music on fiddle and
thousands of people go to hear her. Why,
Camilla Urso herself would listen with plea
sure to your music, Lizzie,' said Mcintyre.
extravagantly. "Who taught you to play ?"
"No one. This violin belonged to father,
and he showed me how to tune it. pick
up tunes that hear, but never heard any
thing half so beautiful as the tunes you sing
and whistle"
Mcintyre smiled. His repertoire of mu-
sic consisted of snatches of operas, waltzes,
redowas, and German airs, which were dimlv
associated in his mind with nights Of bril-.
liant gayety; and he wondered dreamily
how this pure-minded, healthy-souled girl
would look upon the elegant dissipation car
ried on by the set Of which he was the fay
orite. sudden glow warmed his heart
with the thought that not one of the fine
ladies who had swung languidly through the
mazes of that very waltz of the great compo-
ser's could have rescued him so bravely
from the jaws of death as Lizzie had-Liz-
tie red violin hugged to her breast and her
fingers straying lovingly over the strings.
"Tell me about Camilla Urso," she said,
presently. "Did you ever hear her play ?"
Yes, indeed have paper in my trunk
containing little sketch of her life, which
you may read for yourself, and which will
tell you better than can Of her talent"
For moment Lizzes eyes met his own,
look of shame and distress gathering in
them.
"AIr. Mcintyre, that will be of no use-I
cannot read"
"Lizzie 2"
1t is true"
Her violin slipped from her grasp, and
would have fallen to the ground had not Nc
lntyre caught it, and she covered her Grim.
son face with both hands.
"But, Lizzie persisted her companion,
in some perplexity. 81 do not understand.
There are good public schools in the city
and surely your father must have known
that it was his duty to give a girl like you
an education, to say nothing of Neddie,
who is growing up such a splendid young
fellow"
=" 1t is very kind of you to say such things
Of Neddie and me, Mr.. Mcintyre, but, after
all, we are common people, and ours is
common life. Neddie did spend two years
with our uncle who lives in York state. He
went to school there. But father doesn't
think much of book learning. Aunt Jane
never has time to help me, and Neddie is
too restless to keep still long enough /
suppose" she continued, quantity, "you who
live out in the world look at these things in
a different way; but know of many who
are just where am. Why there is whole
family on that island" pointing to tiny
spec away to the eastward, "who cannot
read or write. Once in three months, per-
haps, they will go to the mainland for pro-
visions. scarcely ever go. suppose
shall always live right here, and am con-
tented-I think" a look of doubt gathering
in her eyes "at least | was. But lately
have wished so much that | could read and
had books-for it is so lonely here in the
winter"
swell, dear child" said the young man
gently, :" this gives me the privilege Of pay
ing my debts, doesn't it ?"
Your debts 2" echoed Lizzie, in sur
prise.
"Certainly. Did you not fish me out of
the water week ago ? Well, now you shall
put your six feet of drift wood to some SER
vice. will teach you to read and write"
After that Mcintyre proved the most
faithful of teachers, and his pupil made
steady progress in her lessons. Neither was
the violin any longer in disgrace Lizzie
played to attentive ears, while both were
learning deeper lesson than either at first
realized. Mcintyre was the first to wake up.
He was man of the world, and understood
himself, or thought he did, thoroughly. Ac-
cordingly he started, one morning, for a
stroll along the beach to think it all over.
AS the case now stands" he soliloquized,
as he lit cigar and threw away the match,
" 1t is either Lizzie or the world; and con-
fess the world has charms for me-" Then
came thought which caused his heart to
beat faster, and sent the hot blood to his
brow. But he shook his broad shoulders
Indignantly, and raised his hat to let the cool
sea breeze sweep through his hair. 81 must
be greater scoundrel than am TO work so
great wrong on that dear girl. Faith p
and he laughed in bitter scorn of himself,
"that would be fine way to recompense her
for saving my life. She might better have
left me to feed the fishes Could take her
home with me as my wife,"
His gaze wandered absently over the
swelling waves and fingered upon far-off
sail that dipped and rose and dipped again
until it sank below the horizon. His lip
curled involuntarily as he thought of the
delicate ladies in his set and how wretched
they would make the poor girls life in their
own high-bred fashion. No-but would
they, though
A faint amusement gathered in his face
as he recalled Lizzie's rather stately carriage
and quiet dignity, that redeemed her from
being commonplace. He laughed out.
at would be fun to watch her among all
those peacocks. Poor Lizzie What shame
that she has been so neglected If she had
received half the advantages of any of my
acquaintances, she would have surpassed
them all. Well, well, it is high time re-
turned home. have been here six weeks.
Yes, will go away tomorrow, and forget
her, as she will forget me-"
So saying, Mcintyre threw away the end
of his cigar and started into brisker walk
along the shore, coming directly upon the
and fro drawing plaintive music from her
violin. She wore scarlet jacket over her
gray dress, and a white handkerchief tied
over her dark hair under her chin. His heart
throbbed faster at the sight of her.
"Fooll" he muttered, to think | could
leave her Now, then, my man.
"'It's all for love, and the world well lostr"
Lizzie greeted his approach with smile,
but played on to the close of the strain be-
fore he spoke. 1t was little German air
that he taught her.
"Is that right ?" she queried, as she fin
ished.
q cannot tell you"
Then, meeting her look of astonishment
with his own earnest gaze, he said
"Lizzie, will you care very much when l
go away from here 2"
Her eyes dropped the red blood dyed her
cheek and brow for a moment and then
faded away, leaving her quite pale
al think 1t will be well for you TO CO."
"And why, Lizzie, will you tell me2 You
need not fear to tell me anything" he added,
as she hesitated.
She looked away from him, and her voice
was almost inaudible as she answered
"B BAcause-because--O, cannot tell you
You know"
81 have thought of going, Lizzie but
realized to-day, that could not leave you
ever again, dear"
He put one arm about her, but she drew
away from him, trembling from head to foot.
"Don't, Mr.. Mcintyre want to remem-
Der you kindly, and cannot if you use such
language to me-"
"For heavens sake |" he cried in aston.
ishment, tell me, have | said anything
wrong to you Is it wrong to love you
If that is sin, then | am the greatest OF sim
ners."
al do not forget she said sadly, "that
you are gentleman, and but poor, igno-
rant girl, who knows only what you have
taunht harp