The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1884-03-22

| his pleasure, no enc refused to act or eX-
pressed the least dissatisfaction with his
| cast of characters.
Only one thing annoyed him; he knew
no one qualified to act as the leading lady
| in the piece. 1t was really difficult role
to play; one that, to its proper perform
| ance, would require no little histrionic
| ability on the part of her who assumed it.
In conversation with the young lady who
was to play the part most important after
| that of the hero and heroine, he mentioned
! his dilemma.
81 think Rose Bryant the very one you
| need" she said.
'Rose Bryant? 1 do not remember
having heard the name before"
"She is the private instructress of Mr.
| Nason's younger daughter-you know his
elder daughter, Ella-and [ fancy her sit
uation is not particularly desirable one,
| owing to Elias domineering ways. Rose
| is as nice a girl as ever lived, and very
smart, but she seldom goes into society"
"That accounts for my ignorance of her.
You think she would take the part well"
he asked.
81 do, assuredly."
"With her other duties, would she have
time to learn the part in season for a re-
hearsal next Wednesday evening"
"I think she could manage it in single
evening""
''Then the only question is, would she
undertake itP'
81 am almost certain, yes"
"Are you willing to see her with refer
| ence to the matterW
81 am, and will let you know the result
of my efforts tomorrow, at church,"
"Thank you"
At church, the following morning, he was
| informed by Esther Vernon-the lady with
| whom the above conversation was holden
that "Rose will take the part;" and,
| later, by the same lady, was introduced to
Miss Bryant herself, whom he found
| petite brunette of agreeable if not fault
| lessly regular features, whose mouth in
| dictated firmness, self-possession, pride,
| whose age could not have been more than
twenty.
His mental comment, on seeing her, was,
''She'll do the part to perfection" The
| first rehearsal confirmed this impression,
| and, at each subse quent rehearsal, she inn
| proved upon the preceding. When the
play was performed, on independence Day,
| she outdid her previous best efforts.
| Every word she made express exactly
what was intended and her gestures were
quite in harmony with the text. In the va
| riOuS love passages between herself and
| Mr.. Ainslee-as heroine and hero-she
manifested such genuine feeling as it would
| not be supposed any one could exhibit save
toward the veritable object other affection.
The play was, mostemphatically, a success;
and, at its conclusion, crowds of people
rushed to Mr.. Ainslee to congratulate and
| thank him.
"Please offer your congratulations and
| thanks to Miss Bryant rather than to me"
returned that gentleman, looking toward
the girl who stood near him, her cheeks
flushed, her eyes sparkling with excite
ment. "To her, especially, is the success
| of my innovation due"
| All did as he requested save Ella Mason,
who was profuse in the encOmiums she be-
| slowed on Mr. Ainslee but had no word of
| ~ md of rnt
| willing to take any step which would les
sen the distance, that, in her well-known
| opinion, ought to intervene between herself,
a daughter of the wealthiest man in Camp
ton, and a servant.
After this Mr.. Ainslee met Rose each
Sunday at church, and each Thursday
evening at the prayer-meeting, which lat
| ter he came to attend regularly, having
| learned that she was never absent from it;
| and the more he saw of her, the more inter-
ested in her did he become. Once he es-
| corted her from the vestry where the even
| ing service was holden to the home where
she was employed, and her conversation
| chaste in diction, elevated in tone, Thought
full in sentiment-convinced him that she
was fitted for quite another sphere than the
one she occupied.
Miss Ella Mason was thirty years Of age,
at the lowest estimate, and her chances of
ever becoming wife daily grew fewer. A
| state of ''Single blessednesS" was exactly
| what she desired not to enjoy, and to its
avoidance she would hardly have hesitated
to adopt any tactics. For Mr.. Ainslee-
| though much younger than herself-she
| had conceived a warm liking, which she
| took no pains to conceal, whenever they
| were thrown into each others society. In
| the heyday of her youth she had aspired to
| become the wife of some man of high social
position; now, she was less particular.
| Her father was amply able and quite willing
tp s+ot
| Mr.. Ainslee would be ready to accept her
and the establishment, as soon as he knew
they were to be had for the asking. On
| his part, there was no ignorance of the real
condition Of things with Miss Mason, and
| the thought of her transparent plans called
many a smile to his face So far from re-
ciprocating her regard, ne had an antipa-
| thy to her from the first; as a brief study
of her manner was sufficient to convince
any one that she was self.willed, imperi-
Gus, atfected-such person as no sensible
man would select for his wife.
The various invitations that she had ex-
tended him to call upon them, he had re-
fused; the first that he received after form
ing the acquaintance of Rose he accepted,
solely in the hope of seeing the latter.
But, during the entire evening that he
passed at the Nasons', she was not visible ;
and such was the case on three subsequent
occasions, when he called for a few min
utes.
One evening his ring at the door-bell was
answered by Rose, who, having informed
him that the family proper had gone to
ride, asked him in, and he gladly availed
himself of the opportunity for a longer con-
| verSation with her than he had often been
privileged to hold. Soon mnsic became
their theme, and she expressed her gratifi-
cation that the choir had so improved under
his direction; said that, whereas
it formerly panied her to listen to
their rendering of worn-out tunes,
now it was pleasure to listen to the sing
ing in church.
"Do you play or sing? he inquired.
81 used TO do a little of both"
"Will you favor me now? l presume
Miss Mason would not object to our using
her piano in her absence. AT least, will
assume all responsibility for so doing"
with a smile.
"If you will not criticise me too severe
ly," she laughed.
"That promise YOU"
And he opened the instrument.
She seated herself at the piano and ran
her fingers over the keys; then she glided
into one of Beethoven's souatas. When
she had finished, he said: "Please sing, - so
TREMENDOUSLY that she looked up to his face
near her own.
Without a word she began Labitzky's
''Flow on, Sweet Ripping Stream" the
quivering tones of her rich soprano voice
counterleiting the 'rippling of a stream"
81 criticise you'll" he exclaimed, impetu-