The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1885-07-08

any one but herself. 1t is only neces
sary that she should adjust her life {,
: her mistake.
She rose to her feet with so sudden
movement. that the feather fan whiel
had laid under her idly clasped hand
, 1ell TO the ground unnoticed.
argue no more" she cried impetu
: ously, If the woman's happiness IS no
worth considering
| How unfair he answered, smiling
little at her vehemence. when il was
who said that the woman's happines.
was of necessity dependent on the man
and that for that reason the man.
And the man s. she interrupted. i:
dependent ON the womanl 1t seems K
me we have talked in a circle. and ar
rived exactly where we began-namely
that men can do very well without us.
You are too quick he said. L can
not keep up with you, but | think yor
KNOW where We were agreed all the
same"
1T is the English she answered
evasively; IF we were both speaking
our own language, we should understand
one another better
Perhaps"
Here is father she went on. turning
toward where Mr.. Lorraine had appear.
ed on the threshold between the two
doors. She went few steps toward
him, and took his hand in hers. the lit
tie mutinous expression fading as she
looked at him, her eyes growing soft
and sweet.
"You are just in time, father; Count
Lindenheim and l went ON arguing un-
I'll we were at the verge of quarreling-
at least was"
And what was the point of differ
enee?"
woman. down-trodden woman. /
was defending her, and insisting on her
rights"
Not her rights, Sydney-her privi-
Ieges"
Il do not like them accorded as privi-
teges; still, l am not proud"
And you would rather not do with
out them? Well, ring for lights, and
fetch the chess-board. Home, Sydney, +"
he went on, should be court, ruled
by a king and queen, and then there
would arise no question as to which
were rights and which were privileges" I"
No, father" she retorted; home
should be court where there is only a
lueen-and prime minister"
Il dare say that would insure peace -
We'll, at least it has done so in our
case"
Mr.. Lorraine had seated himself in a
low armchair, and having so spoken,
| sydney leant over the back, and lightly
kissed his gray head. Then lifting her
smiling eyes to the tall, fair man, who
stood watching her, Poor father" she
said gently, ~he has never even found
| out that i rule him."
But it is all kor my own good, child,
IS 1t not? That is why L don't COM
plain. Now go and sing Y esterday;' |
am waiting to hear it."
| "Ah, you should not have gone to
write. father" she said, her voice losing
It's light tones, and growing quick and
earnest, land then you would have
beard Count Lindenheim play. Such
music!"-clasping her hands together
''it was fairyland."
Better than fairyland," !" answered Mr..
Lorraine. Il was listening also, and if
| you do not believe me, go aud look at
my manuscript, and see how few words
L have added to it. That is the charm
| of music" he went on, turning to the
young man; 1T comprises everything.
You shut your eyes, and yet see pict-
ures, and hear voices, and they are al
ways pictures you wish to see-yoices
whose tones you are longing to hear"
Sydney turned away toward the piano,
but, as Mr. Lorraine ceased speaking,
with few quick steps she came back
| to his side.
udI lS HOW We IldNt DOlH liIdIIktu
| you,' she said swiftly, her hand on the
old mans, her gray eyes lifted to the
younger. I'VE have both told you that
you showed us "A magic country; you see
we felt, though we could not speak"
And | can only say" he replied, that
| it seems to me 81 eat thing to have
been intrusted with the key that threw
open the gates" Hefound himself look
ing with sort of pathetic interest at
the old mans sad eyes, to whom had
been conjured up vision of his buried
past, at the girls glad eyes that had
had glimpse into what was veiled
1 from her eager view in the coming time,
and then the momentary emotion that
had touched all three subsidized, and he
became aware that he was still holding
Sydncy's fan, which he had picked up
when it fell from her careless hold. He
gave it back to her with a light warn
| ing. "Yo ou are brave; do you know that
peacock feathers are proyerbially un-
fortunate?"
She took it in her hand, touching the
| feathers caressingly.
"Ah, but L am nots afraid of the
especial misfortune that they are said
to BRING"
And what is that" asked Mr. Lo-
raine.
She turned with little courtesy to
her father. THE daughters, sir, of the
house do not marry"
And you mean to accomplish your
| destiny in spite of the peacock"
~On the contrary, l mean to accept
with equanimity my destiny, and cling
to my peacock's S feathers, and my prime
minister"
You are wise woman" replied her
father, 'and, for the third and last time,
l ask for my song"
Without another word she sat down
at the piano in the darker corner of the
! ROOM
mo, thank you. do not require a
light in answer to Count Lindenheim S
| offer of candle; Il am going to sing a
little song that / know by heart. 1t is
fathers present favorite. and / hope. as
i sing it to him nearly every night, that
1t gives him pleasant dreams.
To-day-ahi weIl,-To-day is fair;
But need tell-what softer air,
Fresh as the morning breath of May,
1 Blew from the hills of yesterday?
Sweet yesterday with reaching hands,
gaze away-Across the sands,
To see if somewhere may find
A careless trffie left behind.
A leaf. windblown,-That fiuttered by,
When all alone,--The woods and l.
A soft rose that used to wear
In the bright beauty of my hair.
The tender eyes-That smiled in mine:
Hthose dear eyes-Again might shine,
And might find along the way
The heart that loved me yesterday.
oh, love! oh. ioss,-No use. tired hands
To reach across-The fading sands:
They are not there the gifts that lay
In the white arms of yesterday.
When she had finished there was a
few seconds silence. then Count Lin
! dor,h ,hoi xr-oIl -od m ho Harf 4
corner by the piano, and
Have you the wordS?" he asked: 4
should like to read them, for my En-
glish is not strong enough for me to I'M
derstand English songs"
~They are here" she replied, IF you
can read my writing"
He took the little manuscript book to
the light.
~They are pretty" old Mr.. Lorraine
remarked, though perhaps you are not
old enough to think so. Young people
like to imagine that sorrow, pretty senti
mental sorrow, of course, is being borne
. in the present, or coming in the future
When you are as old as / am, you vii
like to know that it is past. Eh, Lin
denheimw
But Count Lindenheim was looking
thoughtfully before him. and did not a
once answer. Then. Il don't think. sir.
, he said, that those who have reached
to the point of looking back to yester
; day have much sympathy as a rule wit
those who are struggling through to
! day. To-day viii some day be yester
day to U.S."
sYou are right, perhaps. Somehow
as we grow older, things do seem to
tribes. which of course they are not
{ but ii is written, you know, that tn
: great things of to-day are the tTifies G
tomorrow