The Osceola times., 1881-02-05
LA BAR0NNE."
CHAPTER l.

CHAPTER /.
81 will 90 out. and gather some flowers,
dear" saws Marian, and, with a kiss, for
our honeymoon is hardly over, she trips
away, and directly l hear her singing
among the roses.
Marian, my wfel How sweetly the
name sounds, especially when linked to
that other word. And for years |
dreamed of her, and never supposed she
would be mine; and nowl But let me
| tell the story.
A little more than two years ago, was
at the opera, when great artist was
singing Faust. While the curtain was
| down, at the close of the third act, and
the low buzz of voices filled the house,
heard sharp, incisivc tones on the other
side of the partition, which divided the
boxes.
ale takes that high c with more ease
than Wachtel But there are two or
three notes in his lower register very
defective" the voice said.
For answer, somebody laughed 4
low, feminine laugh, with an oddly gen.
uine ring of fun in it, Then the laughter
spoke.
Betty, made up my mind last spring
that if ! saw much more of artists, !
| should not be able to appreciate nature
at all; now begin TO think if have any
thing more to do with musicians, shall
understand nothing of music"
81 don't understand you," said Betty,
stifily.
"All the artists know" continued the
| laughing voice, measure off the universe
into effects. Sky and sea, and valley, are
all only SO many combinations of burnt
lumber and chrome yellow. A sunset or
| thunder storm is nothing but material to
cover their six by ten bits of canvass;
and they put altogether out of sight the
messages written on the water and the
trees"
"And we musicians"
"Ah You musicians. II is worse with
you. Music TO you is a high c well taken.
1t is the machinery that you see, not the
power within it,"
II don't know what you mean by your
power and messages What is music
TO you, pray?'
leaned forward. Surely there could
be no harm, | said, to myself, in caves
dropping here? There was no answer
! for moment.
"Iou might as well ask me TO talk
about my religion" said the other,
quietly.
"And why not? Religion ought TO be
talked about, in season, oughtnt it?'
| The other did not reply. The sharp
voice went on. Besides, what do you
| know of art? You spoke contemptuously
of pictures this very morning.
II really did not mean to do any thing
of the kind! | only gave them their true
place-they are make-shiits for Nature.
| would rather look at the faces of live
beauties and beggars in Broadway, than
stroll through any gallery of the old mas
ters, at least any that | ever saw. As for
genre painting, which is so much to you,
what do we want with it? We can have
the real roses, and jugs, and old brasses,
which are better"
Something in the voice had strangely
reused my curiosity. am a connoisseur
in voices-this was without parallel 1t
was low, mellow. II could, was assured,
sweep the whole range of expression;
and it had II peculiar sincerity in it,
which held my attention and interest.
While was staring at Faust, | talked to
myself, saying;
THAT is Il good woman--a woman with
| the very essense of truth in her-she
never told n lie, nor disagreeable fact
She is well-born and wcll-bred; the in
Elections and serenity of the voice show
that. Your self taught, scrapply con-
structed woman has shrill, unequal tones
There is none Of the acrid, immature
vehemence Of youth in her-she is
middle-aged, plump, blonde, tranquil
No coquette. If such a woman knew
me, We should be good friends. ! won
der what her name is. | wish knew
something of her life"
As soon as the act was over, | hurried
out into the foyer. But the door. next to
mine stood open; and the box was
empty.
To explain the blank disappointment.
which this trivial matter caused me, |
should have TO tell the story of my soli-
tary, friendless life, which would be use
less, and which | shall not do. therefore
| Ii is enough to say that no woman had
ever taken prominent part in it, Even
my mother died before | could rcmem-
ber her. | had been showed through life
by men, and was now, scholar by pro-
fession and habit, in the busy city of
New York, without the right of entrance
to a single home. had certain fear of
young women; their beauty, brilliancy,
and enthusiasm alarmed and repelled
me. | wanted, or sometimes flncied
in a. languid way that | wanted.
a woman TO be my friend-a woman of
my own age, soft, Tranquil. serene, a
center of repose TO my morbid passion
ate thoughts.
The other men of my club, with their
numberless friendships and flirtations.
would not have remembered this shad-
owy incident Of voice and a scrap Of idle
talk, for an hour. But my lonely fancies
crystallized about it, and exaggerated it
for long months.
CHAPTER H.
Two winters later, / was travelling
alone through West Virginia, and having
stopped, for day in the town OF C.
at the foot Of the Alleghanies, took pas
sage by stage-coach to penetrate into
Maryland through the mountains. Ny