Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1886-11-25
Heron's Nest.
CHAPTER VII.
BY BERTHA NJ. CLAY.

breath Of yiolets; and I--Iny life was 80 diff
ferent that the world did not seem TO be the
same place as of old. There was only one
thing that made me unhappy, and 1t was that
Lady Caryl did not seem To like me. The
change from the gloom of winter to the beau
~ OF spring was not greater than the change
which had come over NY life.
On the third day after her arrival at Heron's
Nest Lady Caryl sent for Inc. She wanted to
hear how could sing, and she professed her
self delighted with the result.
"You have magnificent voice." she said to
me, ''and your style is good You want few
finishing lessons and then you will be an eI-
cellent singer. How remarkable that you
shou' d have such a voice."
From that time she changed to me. But
she never really liked me, and my very pres
ence seemed to irrltate her She abominated
mystery, and was the very embodiment of 1t.
~ wish" she said TO me one day, that you
had second name. 1t IL so absurd To call
you Gracia."
I'll have just the same wish | answered.
"Why not call yourself 'Bencowe'r' she
suggested. 1T would be better than moth
ing
Because the name is not my own and
shall never use it, replied
One morning--the Christmas snow was still
living on the ground-she sent for me, and
said she wanted to talk TO me. She had been
thinking over what would be best for me, and
she offered me post of companion to herself.
/ was to read to her. write her letters, be at
her service whenever she required IT, II was
stipulated that ] was in no way 10 interfere
with the lady's-maid, very important person
named Kate Fisher, or Fisher" as her lady
ship called her But, whenever Lady Caryl
felt inclined for music, was to sing to her.
To nv great delight, she gave me two pretty
rooms facing the south, and my meals were to
be taken there. She also most generously pro-
vided me with a wardrobe. There was moth
ing elaborate or expensive, but everything was
pretty-print dresses, all pink rosebuds, some
nice musllns, and silk dress for my best"
l was TO have a salary Of forty pounds year,
which seemed TO me a fortune; and | was un-
utterably happy, because every now and then
/ could see the man whom / believed TO be
peerless Lady Caryl told me that he was de-
lighted at what she had done.
During the first few DAYS | did not see
much of him. One of the first things that at
uacted my attention was a superb portrait of
ulIn IL ndu pccu paiutcu III Ionic w az
eminent artist, and by Lady Caryl's wish IL
was hung at the end of the picture gallery. /
often went thther to look at the portrait, and
was never weary of gazing upon the sunny
brown hair, the laughing blue eyes, and the
handsome face.
By this time-I confess it freely-I had
grown to love that face better than anything
else in the world. 1t was my star, shining
ever brightly in the dark sky of my life.
Lady Caryl liked to listen to music in the
cleaning, not when the lamps were lighted or
the sun was shining; and one evening in May
an evening that will never be forgotten by
mel sang shelley's beautiful Serenade,
which had set TO music of my own.
On this night all the passion, all the Wild
deep love Of my heart was aroused, and | sang
as had never sung before. Lady Caryl was
lying on the couch; Sir Adrian sat in the re-
cess Of the window; the dying light from the
western sky filed the room. ] could not sup
press my emotion, SO, rising from my seat,
passed quickly through the half-open window,
across the lawn, down to the white gate where
the lilacs grew-the gate that led to the river
Ny heart was full ! laid my hands on the
gate and bowed my head on them. Presently
/ heard footsteps, each one Of which seemed
to strike upon my heart, and voice said
"Gracialn
Raising my face, saw him; he was looking
at me with new strange light In his eyes.
''Gracia," he said, "forgive me for following
you; could not help It. What was there in
that song you sang!'
I knew what was in IL; but could not tell
him that It held all the strength and passion
OF my love.
"What was there in itr' he continued. ~
have heard many songs, but nothing like that,
Gracis."
1t was the very cutlery Of human soul; but
he must not know IT,
1.-THE words have a sweetness all their own,"
was all | said: and for a few minutes he was
silent
Ny hero, whom l had worshipped at a dis
lance, was standing close beside me now, with
something in his eyes and face ] had never
dared hope to see there.
III do not wonder" he said, that you set
beautiful words to sweet harmonies. Your
love OF music can be seen in your face,
Graeia." Then, after closely watching me for
few moments, he added slowly, ~ cannot tell
where, but have seen face in some picture
rust like yours
"Did it please your asked eagerly for to
win one word of commentator from his lips
would have done anything.
"Please mel' he echoed. II thought it
simply the loveliest face had ever seem"
"Then IL could not have been like mine!" /
said incredulously.
at was. 1t had the same dark eyes and
brows, the same delicate profile and beautiful
month ha ma dark Qnrlc the Ga m
dimple in the white chin. 1t must have been
a picture of you, Gracia. Why, child" he
added passionately, ''you are beautiful as a
poets dream When / met you that Christ
mas eve by the postern-gate, your beauty took
me completely by surprise"
All, beautiful Christmas star, how blessed
the light that led me thlther! But my beauty,
the beauty of a nameless, friendless girl, what
could it availi Still, II II pleased him, 1t was
dear to me.
81 shall always like my face better now that
know 1t pleases you" said gently.
nightingale began to sing in the wood
near by, and we were silent for some minutes
listening; then he continued
"Please met All, Gracia, that is a mild
word DO you think have no eyes, no earsi
Do you think that have listened to your sing
ing without seeing the beauty Of your facet
Do you think that have looked at your face
without recognizing your fair sweet souls
have said little TO you; but am sure under
stand you"
And was made so perfectly happy by those
few words that would have been content to
die then and there. oh, happy night the
memory of which was never TO leave mel
II always thought he went on, ''that to
sing one must have loved and suffered You