St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1881-12-02
Her First Appearance.

1t really was "quite too awfully vex.
ing" after all her preparations were
made, that now, nearly at the last mo-
ment, such a cOntretemps should occur,
and the more she thought of it the
more was Mrs. Stewart Allenby in de-
spair.
And for good reason, for she had is
sued cards for a morning concert-a
matinee musicale, as she called it on
the invitations the first she had ever
given since she moved to the great
house i'll one of the most fashionable
roads in South KensingtOn, and she
particularly desired that it should be a
success-and now Signora Belcore had
gone and fallen sick at the eleventh
hour, and the programme would be too
short unless some one could be found
to sing the cavatina from "Linda de
| ChamOuniX."
"Put in comic song instead" sug
gested Mr.. Allenby, whose taste was
not educated up to concert pitch.
"A comic song indeed ~ echoed his
wife with Il scornful laugh. George,
you are a fool
But as Mr.. Allenby had heard this
blunt statement good many times be-
fore, he was not at all discomposed by
it.
At that moment the door opened
softly. Mrs. Allenby started up.
civilians" cried she to the foot
man, "I'm not at home Didn't | tell
you l could see nobody this morning :"
ayes, madam" the footman an
swered, coughing behind his hand !;
| hIlt Sn1 no
visiting gOverness."
"Oh !" Mrs. Allenby was visibly re-
lieved. "COme in, Miss Ashton. Will
liams, call Miss Constance at once to
her lessons"
Margaret Ashton came quietly in, a
little, gray dressed creature, like a
nun, with soft hazel eyes, complexion
as pale as ivory, and mended gloves
upon her small hands.
"YOu are not well, Mrs. Allenby,
am afraid ~ she said, gently, as she
seated herself.
~ am well enough ~ said Mrs. Stew
art Allenby, petulantly ly-"Only Pm in
despair. You don't know of any one
who could sing that cavatina for me,
do you, Miss Ashton ?"
"Perhaps-I could" said Margaret.
"YOu2n
Mrs. Allenby stared as if the visiting
gOverness had stated that she could
construct sentence in Sanscrit.
81 could sing little once" said Mar
garet "and that cavatina was one of
my favorite pieces"
"You darling" she cried. eff only
you could help me out of this dilemma.
I'll be grateful to you all my life long"
Margaret went back to the humble
little suburban cottage where she rent
ed three roOms-a cottage where she
supported a fretful valetudinarian
mother, and pretty widowed sister,
whose life had been a failure all the
way through.
"Charlotte" she said, to the latter.
'Pm going to sing at concert next
Wednesday
"You !" echoed the widow. "You'n
fail, for a certainty"
81 can try" said Margaret, with a
fiuttering sigh.
"YOur voice is well enough" said the
sister, disparagingly; but it has no
volume. And you never will have the
confidence to sing before an audience"
The tears came into Margaret's eyes.
81 must do something, Charlotte" ;"
said she. "We cannot live on as we
are living now. We are in debt every
where and since the doctor has pre-
scribed dainties for mamma l haven't
known where to look for the money to
buy them with"
"Perhaps | shall get something to do
soon," said Charlotte.
"But, in the meantime 7" said Mar
I,
eyebrows.
She was a magnanimOus little thing,
this hard-worked, palefaced visiting
governess, or she would have reminded
her elder sister that sitting all day with
curl papered locks and dog's-eared
novels was no way to obtain a lucra-
tive situation of any sort.
"It's very hard on me-" said Mrs.
Ashton, who sat with a devotional
book in her lap and bunch of grapes
on a china plate beside her. ''If Mar
garet had been like any one else she
would have made brilliant match
long ago"
Margaret did not remind her mother
how she had discarded Basil Hepburn
long ago, because he was not sufficient
ly aristocratic and wealthy to suit Mrs.
AshtOn's lofty ideas-and how Mr..
Hepburn had since become rich man,
and a man of mark.
"If he knew how very poor we are"
said Margaret to herself, with a sigh,
"I think he would be sorry. But
could not tell him and now that he
has gone to travel in Egypt, and up
the Nile, it isn't likely l shall ever see
him again"
"YOu haven't any more voice than a
sparrow" said Mrs. Ashton.
"YOu have never cultivated what
little you have" said Mrs. Charlotte
"and the idea of your standing up to
sing among those professional vocal
lists is simply Preposterous r
But Margaret stood valiantly to heI
colors, and when the eventful night ar
rived she stood there ON the velvet
covered platform, in her well-wOrn
black silk, softened by punches of pale
pink rOsebuds in her hair, and an in
tent look in her soft brown eyes.
''Now don't fall" Mrs. Allenby had
whispered, as the portierers of crimson
velvet were lifted for her to pass out
upon the mimic stage.
mo-" she answered, quietly, 81 shall
not fail"
But, for an instant, as she faced the
| hriIIianf au6ienca the Hnffer af fans