The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1886-06-23
OUR MUSIC TEACHER.
A Womanly Heart Just Saved
from Bitterness.


liked to go to that service, particularly
after the new church was built which
pleased my eye with its pure beauty,
and appealed to my recollections in
way, faint, to be sure, but delightful
to me. In those glorious mornings l
would hurry along the streets, hug
ging my cloak about me, the keen air
bringing the crimson to my face, my
eyes idly searching hither and thither
under hats and bonnets for face that
should strike my imagination, and about
which could weave strange, fanciful
histories. Thus I walked on till / came
to the less thickly inhabited portion of
the city. Sharp breezes came from the
bay, whose scintillating surface was
now in sight across the plats of land
not yet built up. l turned rapidly
round the corner, and came in sight of
the church which was my destination.
i looked with admiration at its heavy
stone facade; did not even scorn the
fingers that dipped into the holy water
in the vestibule. My childhood had
been spent in Montreal, close by its
imposing cathedral, and the glittering:
impressive ceremonies enacted there
had remained in my memory like the
shining phantasm Of dream. So, with
all my conscious pride of intellect and
education, l could never despise the
devotees of that religion.
l stood just within the door that led
from the vestibule, glancing through
the new corners, watching the degree
of devotedness on each face as each
forehead was believed with holy water.
The majority of the countenances were
those of working people-some pretty
how and then an aristocratic form
and dress swept up to the marble basin,
and then passed me to the seats of the
church, leaving slight perfume behind.
The lights at the altar were cleaning
out below the picture of the Mater I'M
naculata. was about turning to find
seat, when slender figure came up
the steps. Here was face to dream
about. If had come twice as far this
cold morning, should have been re-
paid by the interest this girl instantly
excited. She was not dressed like the
wealthy people who had passed me,
but she was more thoroughly an aris-
tocrat than any of them. Her clothes
were almost poor, but worn with that
manner which the well dressed would
have envied. Was she Catholic?
As she came up l caught the CLEAN
of rosary of pearls at her belt,
whose heavy red gold fastenings were in
entire contrast with the rest of her dress.
But she did not stop to sanctify her.
self with the holy water, though she
half paused, as if feeling an inclination
to do so, then came through the door
and stood near me, waiting for seat.
She, too, was stranger. stood fur
lively watching the face of the girl. A
proud, dark face, not naturally pale,
but pallid now, from suffering, l
thought; handsome, with its full lips,
albeit so colorless now, and its hazel
eyes, though they looked cold and dis
tant now-cool with that hopeless, dis
trustful look that must have been
caused by pain. In some people such
life struggles as l imagined for this
girl would have given a pleading, sup.
plicating expression. For her they
were doing worse; they were freezing
a nature passionate and impulsive. In
moment a gentleman came up and
asked:
would you like seat, miss-and
your friend?"
The question was addressed to me.
bowed assent, feeling more pleased than
the occasion would warrant, in think.
Ing that this stranger would sit with
me. We both followed our conductor
and sat down side by side as the firs
peal of the organ burst on the air. My
companion did not kneel, though she
followed the service in little velvet
bound praycr-book. 1t seemed to mt
that I had never heard much fnel
organ music, but was so intent upor
watching this girl that it rolled OF
comparatively unheeded by me. She
leaned forward. shading her eyes will
her hand, her mouth growing saddle,
and sadder, till l thought l should cry
just looking at those lips. At last ;
tear dropped on the leaves Of her book
l turned away my head; 1t seemed
hardly right for me to look at grie
which | had no power to assuage. TIT
monotonous tones of the priest ran!
through the church, and the response
of the organ and choir awakenedin m,
heart that old romance of religion