Daily globe., 1882-08-13
A REPAID DEBT.
BY ]. W.

IA tnO lktLiO 0C1Iudu NllldDt
whose outskirts two lovers strolled.
They had left behind them the cot
tages, and had wandered off among the
green fields and under the shade of the
trees, behind which the sun had almost
sunk to rest.
1t was an old story, the story of their
loving. They had been betrothed since
the girl was fourteen, 1t was well-nigh
five years now, and on her nineteenth
birthday they were to be married.
She was an orphan, and her snug
dowry, lying so safely nestled
away in the village bank, she had
accumulated by the labor of her
own hands. But shade was on
her lovers face tonight, and even in
the shadow her quick eye discerned it,
"Sing to me. Hans" she whispered,
knowing that in song Hans Werter for
got all else.
After q moments silence, he obeyed
her, and the sleepy birds woke in their
nests, and almost Indignantly drew
their heads from beneath the soft shell
ter of their wing, to listen to this
strange, wonderful rival to the sweet
ness of their notes. The air was filled
with the exquisite melody. 1t rang full,
and clear, and sweet. 1t sank down to
the violets, as they stirred to the listen
ing wind, and scared to the stars
Poor little Marguerite! Hans music
| always brought the moisture to her blue
eyes, but tonight it seemed filled with
something she had never heard before.
and her little hands were tightly inter-
laced, and her red lips parted in sort
of painful ecstacy.
But at the close, she was all unpre-
pared to see him end the last note in
dry sob, then fling himself down on
the sward and bury his face in his
hands.
'.Hans, what is it?n she cried sinking
down beside him, and trying to raise.
his head upon her breast
Was he weeping? She had never in
| all those years seen him thus moved
His powerful frame seemed shaken to
its innermost centre by the torrent of
| emotion which awept over it,
Almost rudely, in his sunconsciousness
to all but his own suffering, he repulsed
| her, only the next moment to be filled
| with remorse.
1 NV Inl1EtN tI-
| fort, he drew her to him with gentle
force.
Forgive me, DEAR" he said softly,
'but never ask me to sing again, Mar
guerite. 1t only teaches me what |
might have been, and what am. Think
what it would be if l had the money to
reach Italyl l could have the world at
my feet, Marguerite-I could be great
and famous! l know it feel it. But
1 am chained here, tending my herds
and feeding my cattle, pOwerless to
| break the chains. / need so much mon
ey-so much-and | have so little.
Though 1 sold all 1 had in the world, it
would not bring me to my journeys
end. No, no! must give it up; but
never-never ask me to sing again"
| The girl answered him nothing,as she
stroked the hot brow with the little,
cool hand, which, all Drowned and
hardened rs it was, fell very softly,
very lovingly.
In her eyes he was a king, this shep-
| herd-lad. Instinctvely Sc knew that
| silence is ofttimes more healing than
| speech; and, besides, wonderful daz-
zling thought Lad crept into her own
busy brain, and driven all lighter
thoughts away.
| Still, silently, they rose and walked
silently home AT the door of her little
| cottage, he stopped and kissed her on
the brow, as they stood beneath the stars.
In two more months he was to share
her fate-the home left her by her dead
parents-so they both had thought
scarce an hour agone. Tonight Mar
| guerite knew differently.
How much would it bring, the sale of
this humble little shelter?
1t was this problem which banished
slumber through the long night hours.
1t was solved three days later. when the
sum for its possession by strangers, lay
in her hands, and, added to it, the nest
| egg from the bank, made in the child S
eyes a fortune.
! What mattered it that she was beg
| CARED? 1t was for Hans sake! 1t was
now her turn to be silent, as, hand-in-
hand, they walked beneath the golden
studded skies
Hans she said, at last, very soft
ly, Il have been thinking, dear, since
the other night, and and, Hans, we
won't be married yet awhile. A wife
would only pull you down, instead of
helping you soar TO the birds where you
belong. l don't want you to think of
me- want you to 60 away, and study
to be great singer
And as she spoke, she strove to
thrust the bag within his grasp.
"Margueriter er'-she shrank from the
sterness of his tone-''how did you get
the gold?'
Honestly" she answered proudly.
"The gold was to have been my dowry;
the notes-I-I sold the cottage for
those"
'.You did this for me, and you think
so meanly of me as that would accept
such a sacrifice?"
| His voice quivered as he spoke.
''Hans. l was to have been your wife, -
she whispered. ''Who had the right, if
not Ip Oh, I shall be SO proud-so
proud. some day. when you come back
for your little Marguerite, and l shall
be the wife of the great singer! They
will point at me and say, Yes, he mar
ried this little nobody, this little Mar
guerite, but they say he loves herr and
they win think it strange that you
should love me from your great height.
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