The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1884-04-17
ANNINA.

-
ANNINA.
Pastor Comba was a Waldensian
clergyman, whose acquaintance l made
at a prayer meeting in Venice. There
are prayer meetings in Venice, and the
Italians relate their experiences and
sing hymns with all the fervor of en-
thusiastic Methodists. My friend, Miss
Leslie, called for me, one evening, and
L accompanied her because 1 thought it
rather novel to glide to a prayer meet
ing in a gondola. We went some dis
lance, twisting through narrow canals,
turning innumerable corners, shooting
a score of bridges, while the soft moon
light beamed as brightly as it did on
the night when Jessica escaped from
Shylock's house. We halted at last be-
fore a great, grim palace, and a tall
man fastened forward to help us up the
slippery steps. This was Pastor Com
ba, a singularly handsome man, with a
silky beard and mustache covering the
lower part of his face. He led the way
up a wide marble staircase to a large
room, where thirty or forty men and
women were assembled. Some were
devout souls; some, like me, had been
brought by a friend; and a few were
there out of sheer curiosity. One peas
Int entered, looked about him with a
puzzled air, and asked what was going
on. The reply made him cross himself
and hasten away, shaking the unholy
dust from his feet.
The room had been, in days gone by,
a banquet hall, and the ceiling showed
rosy nymphs and bacchantes, now very
dingy and badly defaced. As an offset
to these pagan pictures, one side of the
hall was covered with Scripture texts,
and where a Catholic would have looked
to find a basin of holy water was a Ia
BILE full of tracts. In a corner stood a
parlor organ, a young lady seated on a
stool before it, intently studying a hymn
book. Thither Pastor Comba led u.s.,
and introduced us to his niece, Signo-
rina Annina Comba. She was not more
than seventeen-a pretty, slim, dark
haired slip of a girl, who looked very
demure, but her black eyes were bub-
bling over with life and fun. She had
in her hands a copy of Sankey's hymns,
an Italian version. The prayer
meeting began with Held the Fort,
Signorina Annina playing the organ
and joining in the singing. Overhead,
the nymphs still smiled sweetly, and
the bacchantes never dropped their
wreaths; but two or three gondoliers
went out of the hall, knocking a few
benches over to show their disap-
proval. Pastor Comba made a fervid
address; a white-headed man in the
audience rose, and described his con-
version: and finally there came an ex-
hortation from a young man, who ap-
peared to be not more than twenty.
His eloquence was tremendous. Sig
norma Annina's great eyes dilated, and
Miss Leslie cried, but the crowd went
crazy. Everybody wanted to speak at
once, when the young man sat down,
and the air was rent with passionate
voices that Pastor Comba tried in vain
to quell. When order was restored we
went home; but we had first been in
vited by the clergyman to dine with
him and his niece on the following even
ing.
Thus began my acquaintance with
the Combas, and that winter 1 boarded
with them in Florence, whittier the
pastor had been sent to take charge OF
a Protestant chapel. He had a charm.
ing wife, but no children, and Annina
passed the winter with them, in order
that she might study music. Her home
was in Turin, and l asked her, one day,
at the dinner table, if there was nc
good music teachers there.
She smiled significantly, and her un'
Gle shook shook his finger at her
'Yes, there are music teachers there
he said, "and there is also a young
man there, and he abstracts Annina's
mind; so she must stay here in Florence,
if she will learn anything"
Annina very soon told me that she
was engaged to be married, and in
week l knew all about Allesio Chan
daja. 1 heard of his blue eyes, his
curly hair, his beautiful white hands
and his sweet tenor voice. Annins
showed me his portrait, which she wore
in a locket, and Ipleased her by saying
that he must be very handsome.
"An Apollo!" she exclaimed.
She wrote many letters to him, anG
received many in return, and as a favol
she would occasionally show me a lint
or two. We became excellent friends
despite the disparity of ages, ami
often took her with me t o walk, OIL tt
visit the galleries. She talked contin
ually about her Allesio; but she SPOKE
in Italian, so it was good practice fol
me in that language. He was a neigh
boris son, and she had known him from
babyhood.
''But we did not love-" she said
''until one summer, when his family
and mine went to Switzerland together
Then we found out"
':Did he tell you?" I asked.
She looked much scandaliZed. "H,
told my mother" she answered, s'ant
mother told me; but l knew it BEFORE
she added, naively. 'There is mucI
in a glance"
The rogue shot a demure sidelon!
look at me, as she said this, and CAV,
an ecstatic little skip. We were walk
ing in the cascine, and the officers be
slowed bold stares of admiration Oh
Annina. She was very pretty, and b,
no e unconscious of it; but sh,
talked of her beauty in the same fran
way that she did of her love affair.
"Were you ever alone with Allesio-
[ mean after you became engaged?'
I asked, wondering whether old Gus
toms still held sway.
mo, MOI" she cried. "That m,
mother would never allow"
l felt her hand tighten or my arm
and she suddenly became silent. Sh,
did not even grow gay at the sight O
MIR. Livingstone driving his sixteen O
eighteen horses. At dinner, she spok,
hardly a word, and her uncle rallied
her on her melancholy, her unwontet
silence. mo letter from A1lesioP" b,