Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1885-04-09
DOUX SOUVENIR.

The room was one of those har-
monious little bowers often seen in
these aesthetic days. Nora had fallen
in love with the description of violet
boudoir, and when her taste was con-
suited about her own boudoir she I'M
hesitatingly declared it should be hung
and furnished in shades of purple from
the deepest to the palest, and it was
done.
On this afternoon her own dress har-
monized with the room. Violet silk
and velvet trained over the purple car
pet, and band of sparkling amethyst
violets bound her golden halr. Even
the air was laden with faint fragrance
of the fresh flowers.
Nora was seated at the piano playing,
while Philip Leighton leaned his fair
neuu aBuff1sU rfIe uurN uurnush or III
easy chair, and listened with half-closed
eyes. His violin lay lovingly against
his heart, and Ills long, slender "vo.ln
hand" still carelessly held the bow.
"Play No. of the Lieder," he said,
as she paused, with faint, inquiring
chord; the one which they call Sweet
Remembrance
She shivered slightly, and opened
her lips to refuse, then resolutely turn
ing, she began to play. Philips eyes
were open now, and he watched her
closely, as, with tieht-shut mouth and
sad. strained eyes, she played it through
with rare feeling, but evident pain.
Like fash, there passed through his
mind the thought of cruel wind driv-
ing before it two forms with faces he
knew. As the last note died away
Nora rose so pale and wan that Philip
started to his feet, looking at her in
surprise; but almost instantly her color
returned, and she laughed lightly.
feseated himself in his purple chair,
"a very strange story about every one
having q keynote. A certain note in
the scale dominated over them in some
mysterious fashion, and every one who
discovered this possessed a singular
power over the person who responded
to it. The story pretended that this
was universal. L think it fanciful N.Y.
self, though / have never tried to prove
it. / am certain, however, that l have
found a combination of sounds which
has strange effect upon you, Nora.
Why do you never play that piece with
out evident suffering?"
Again a slight shudder passed over
her, but after moments hesitation she
replied:
Il don't know. That it is so is true,
and although 1 am unconscious of
changing color, know that, too, is so;
for, after playing it, people have some
times come up and offered me fan
or yinaigrette, as if they thought me
faint"
"What does it make you think OFF"
he asked.
"Of the wind. Whoever named it
'Doux Souvenir must have had differ
ent ears from mine. 1t also makes me
think of or see picture"
"Representing-%
"Two shadowy figures driven by the
wind. Such sad, sad looks they turn
one to the other; but sadness full of
longing, lingering love-"
This time he, too, turned pale. He
rose.
"My dear Nora" he said, "this is
growing absurd. Absolutely, 1 begin
myself to SILVER. Come, accompany
me; let us play it together"
Complying at once, she went to the
piano. Once or twice she raised her
eyes to his face beseechingly, as if i'm
ploring him to stop; but he was merci-
lessly determined to fight away this
something" and he held her to the
very last. Softly, family, the murmur-
ing wind-sounds died away, until they
blended into silence; but as he turned
to chide her plAyfully, her eyes looked
dimly into his, then closed as she faint
ed in his arms.
Neither had noticed her father, who,
drawn by the music, had been standing
in the curtained doorway. He hurried
in as his daughter fell, and, taking her
somewhat abruptly from Philips arms,
said word to him, and the young man
retired. A moment after, Nora opened
her eyes in vague wonder, and, seeing
her fathers face could recall nothing OF
what had passed. He gently ex-
planned.
II was just going to call your
mother" he added; "but since you are
better-come, take turn up and down
with me; there, now, your color is
coming. Nora, will take this oppor
tunity to say that 1 do not wish you to
see so much of Philip"
"Oh, papa, he had nothing to do with
my fainting nothing at ALL"
ADO you know" said her father,
slowly, "all the circumstances of
Philips life?"
NO" she answered frankly, II do
not. only know there is something
painful in his past, about which no one
speaks.
1T concerns woman began her
father, then he hesitated.
"Papa," said Nora, "if you wish to
tell me anything, whatever it may be,
do not be afraid of agitating me. Philip
has never made love to me-is nothing
to me, as you seem to fear"
"Ah, then" in tone of relief, "you
ought to know the story. Philip is
married, and his wife is supposed TO be
living"
In spite Of herself Nora shivered and
turned pale.