The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1884-08-20

Was 1t a Mistake?
" Was Persis ever 30 beautiful ?"

played with the hearts of the men who sat
beside them. Dainty colors heightened
the beauty of dainty forms, and the fra
GRANGE of roses and heliotrope made the
music like dream of passion.
"Was Persis ever so beautiful ?"
This was whispered from one to another
as young and brilliant girl, having fin.
ished her operate air from al Mignon,"
bowed to the encore, and sang with be-
witching grace Twickenham Ferry"
Her face was radiant, and her large brown
eyes spoke the Joy that comes from the
rapturous applause of four thousand peo-
pie. What an intoxication it was ! Pick
ing mp the flowers thrown to her, she
tossed rose here and there, one falling
into the hand for which it was intended
that of Stanly Hall.
A man of splendid physique, with hair
and eyes as black as night, of proud
spirit and noble bearing, he was worthy
of the rose which he pressed to his lips,
and knew that in the great audience Per.
sis Wood sang for him more than for all
the others. He was proud of her; and
yet, in his very heart, though Persis did
not know it, there was an underlined dis
like of all this applause for the one he
held dearest.
"Why am so i'll at ease ?" he said 10
himself. "Would Persis not be glad for
me if | had this audience at my feet, as
she has? Am jealous2 No, l am proud
TO have her loved. But will she be willing
to give up all this for me ? Oh yes, it's
a womsn's nature to live in and for
another"
So he unused and yet there was an un-
rest in his soul which made the cheering
CRATE hsrshly upon him. eyes, she is
beautiful He had told himself that a
thousand times. Her white satin was as
pure as herself, and the lilies Of the val
ley which she wore he had gathered for
her with his own hand.
That the praise gave warmth and soul
to her singing was not difficult to see, and
when, later, at the continued applause, she
sang minor strain, the peoples hearts
warmed toward her with tenderness
which is deeper than admiration and is
ever part of love.
n
Five years had gone by. The grand
May festival was over and Persis Hall sat
in her beautiful home, her head bowed on
her hands, weeping. She thought of the
women, regal in song, who had just
thrilled the thousands, as she had done on
that well-remembered night. That was
but the beginning of a worldwide fame
she thought and hoped but she hoped in
vain. She had lived years in the past
three days. Her ambition, her joy in
singing, her bitter disappointment, had
all swept over her like food. Had she
not all that woman could ask-s true hus-
band, a darling child and an attractive
home
Again and again her mother had said
that "home was the whole of life to wo-
man: that music at its best could be en-
joyed here; that public life was only for
man, and that wife must have no ambi.
ton save to exalt him. If she could aid
him to be rich, or statesman, or a man
of letters, well but for her there must be
no applause of the multitude, no leaving
the home circle"
Sand why ?" she sometimes vaguely
asked herself "Women have entered the
professions successfully, or, like Jenny
Lind, Parepa and Nilsson, have delighted
the world. know have power within
me, but am doing nothing"
Stanly Hall had married Persis for
himself, and he claimed her. Was he
selfish He had not learned that the
highest love lives for the happiness of its
object. Persis reasoned to herself that he
was right; that George Eliot spoke the
truth when she said the woman is happiest
who has no history but, in spite Of all,
the old burning love for great musical
success withered her very heart. She
had never asked herself, before marriage,
if she could sacrifice the one desire of her
life for it? She only knew that she loved
Stanly devotedly. Few men or women
ever reason about love, which is a win
some tyrant, leading us blindfold into
many pit. Would she leave him ?
Oh no. This never entered her heart.
She had taken the step, and with her
there was no going back. She loved him
then, and loved him now.
kissing her little Persis, who lay in the
crib beside her, the mother stole softly to
q cedar chest and opened it. There was
the white satin which she wore at that
glad May festival, and the faded lilies of
the valley which Stanly gave her. Did he
know her heart? Yes. Did he think her
foolish Perhaps. He was successful
hnu1 dHu udu llJblO biiuo buOuRuU lUT
others failures in life. Twas a childish
love for fame, and years would cure it, he
thought. Do years cure mans crushed
ambition Why, then, a woman's, since
both are of the same flesh and blood ?
Was she wise to marry, if she desired to
be a great artist 2 Possibly not but she
yielded to the behest of love, and now it
was too late.
Ten years had gone by. A blighted
hope is cancer at the heart, and, sooner
or later, stops its beating. Little Persis,
with her mothers eyes and merry laugh
was developing an exquisite voice. Would
she take her mothers place among the
gifted So that mother hoped and
prayed.
Another May festival had closed, and
Persis Hall lay dying in her handsome
home, with lilies of the valley close beside
her.
"Bury me in the white satin, with the
faded lilies, S.anly."
The strong man wept as he laid beside
her the withered rose she had flung him
on that festal night. Was it all a mis-
take? Life has many.--Sarah X. Bolton
in Independent.
DIR. Koch ON Cholera.
The appearance of Asiatic cholera in