Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1882-11-07
the young men viewed him with jealous

The last night of the fair was to be I
gala night, and play was to be per
formed. Now it happened that tn.
leading character of the play was an
Italian dancing girl. and the part was
given to Blanca. The dark stranger
was there as usual. He watched thu
play with undisguised disgust until Bi.
anca entered with her tambourine in
her hand He started forward In great
surprise. She sang wild, plaintivt
melody, and began fantastic dance
At this the stranger leaped to his feel
with low cry. All eyes were imme-
diately turned in that direction, and ht
fell back in his seat as white as marble
i Early the next morning the Thornes
we're surprised by q >isit from the
to the point.
! pardon my intrusion, sir and mad
am. am an Italian com poser, travel
ling for my health. At the fair last
night saw your daughter perform a
wonderful song and dance will you tell
me where she learned it ?"
The farmer stared at his wife, but
neither spoke word for moment
"Well, really, sir" he at length re-
piled, II can hardly tell you that. BIZ
anca danced that way and sang that
song when she first came to us, which
is nigh unto nine years ago."
"Then she is not your own child ?"
cried the dark stranger in great excite>
ment.
"Oh, no! She is an adopted child,
although we love her as if she had been
born to u.s."
"For Heavens SAKE, tell me AL you
know concerning her."
Thus entreated, the farmer related the
story When he had finished, the man
grasped his hand, while the tears
streamed down his cheeks.
.'Mr. Thorne," he said, 'the girl is
my daughter. can prove it," he said,
noticing the look Of incredulity on the
faces of his hearers. Fifteen years ago
years, was stolen from me. The song
sition of my own, and 1 taught her tile
accompanying dance. When I arrived
in this village, few days ago, I was
struck with the resemblance of this girl
to my wife, who has been dead many
years When I saw her performance /
was satisfied that she was my child, as
no one else in this world knows that
song but myself The name, too, is the
same, Blanca Correni Thank God, my
daughter is found at last!''
Great was the excitement in the viii
lage when it was known that Farmer
Thorne's adopted daughter had found
her father, and that he was gentleman
of wealth and distinction.
1t was severe blow to the Thornes,
however, for they had really learned to
love this girl as if she weIe their own
darling Harry suffered the most; he
knew that in losing Blanca he had lost
all he had to live for.
The day of parting came Signor
Correni and his daughter were to sail
fur sunny Italy, and perhaps never to
return. Harry stood with his mother
tle travellers. The poor boys eyes were
filled with tears as Blanca took his hand
to bid hin, farewell.
''Don't look so gloomy, Harry, dear !"
she sobbed II snail surely come back
some time-indeed I will-so don't
weep, NV dear brother"
The manly fellow brushed away his
tears and tried to smile. Then slipping
a slender ring on her finger said:
keep it dear, until you find another
that loves you more than I do; then
throw il away"
| A few more words he said which
brought the deep bushes to her cheeks:
then the stage driver sounded his horn !;
Mrs Thorne clasped her in her arms for
last farewell, her father lifted her into
the vehicle and it rolled away. The
farmers family watched it out of sight,
and when they returned to the house it
seemed as though the last ray of sum
light had departed.
Four years passed, and brought con-
- irc< TO +
their house was burned to the ground,
went to New York, where they took
apartments in a tenement house, and
Harry found q clerkship at dry goods
store at small salary.
For while letters came regularly
from Blanca; they spoke in glowing
terms of her beautiful home, and of her
fathers great love for her. "And yet I
am not happy, dear mother" she wrote.
II miss you all so much! Papa gave
me magnificent diamond necklace
yesterday, but would willingly give it
for one day at the dear old farm again. ("
After time the letters came less fre
quently, till it was now nearly a year
since they had heard a word from her.
It was Christmas eve, and Harry was
hurryipg home to spend the long even>
ing with his beloved mother, when he
was overtaken by his friend, Fred.
Crosby.
"Just the fellow I want to see !" said
the latter. II have q couple of tickets
to the opera tonight; you must come
with me-"
"No. Fred, I cannot. I promised
my dear old mother I'd be hume early
Tonight" said Harry, firmly.
my dear boy you must come with
me! 1t may be the only chance to hear
the prima donna. They say she is di-
vine. Everybody is raving about her.
Surely you will not miss chance to see
Blanca Correni J"
"Bianca Correni!" cried Harry in
amaZement.
know. And here we are now. Come
on, you shall see her!"
Without word more Harry suffered
himself to be led into the opera house.
AS one in q dream he took his seat.
Blanca Correni prima donna! What
could it mean?
He had not long to wait. The cur
tain rose, and revealed to his startled
gaze, Bianca-his Bianca-On the stage
and fairly ablaze with jewels. The
house shook with the thunder of ap-
plause which greeted her. Harry de-
voured her features. Yes, it was his
own adopted sister, the little tambour-
ine-girl, the idol of the public. "And
the poor farmers son forgotten forever !"
he thought, bitterly.
But his heart gave great throb as he
noticed on one slender finger q plain
circlet of gold; it was the ring he had
given her when they parted; he knew
it at once.
"She wears it, although she has for
gotten me-" he thought.
Magnificent creature. eh ?" said his
friend, noticing bis admiration. mot
at all like the rest of them-all paint
and powder on the stage, and frightful
to behold when you approach near
enough to see through the Disguise"
At that moment Harry thought he
caught the singers eye. For q moment
he thought he saw her start and gasp
conv ulsively, but only for a moment