San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-08-24


few finishing lessons, and then you will De
an excellent singer. How remarkable that
you should have such n yOiceW
From that time she changed 10 me. But
she never really liked me, and my very pres
ence seemed to iTTitate her. She abOminated
mystery, and was the very embodiment Of
it
~ wish" she said 20 me one day, that
you had a second name. 1t is so absurd 10
call YOU GTacia."
"Ihave Just the same wish" answered.
"Why not call yourself 'BlencOwe'Y she
suggested. 1T would be better than moth
ing"
shall never use 1t" replied.
One mOrning-the Christmas snow was
still lying 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 the post Of companion
to herself. was to read To her write her
letters be at her service whenever she re-
uuired It 1t was stipulated that was in no
way TO interfere with the ladys-maid, very
important person named Kate Fisher, or
Fisher" as her ladyship called her. But
whenever Lady Caryl felt inclined for music,
| was to sing TO her.
TO my great delight, she gave me two pref
ty rooms facing the south, and my meals
were to be taken there. She also most gem
erOusly provided me with wardrobe. There
was nothing elaborate or expensive, but
everything was pretty-prnt dresses, all pink
rosebuds, some nice muslins, and silk dress
for my best" | was to have a salary OF
forty pounds year, which seemed to me u
fortune; and | was unutterabiy happy, be-
cause every now and then | could see the
man whom believed ~ be peerless Lady
CaryI told Inc that he was delighted at what
she had done.
During the first few days | did not see
much of him. One of the first things that at
tracted my attention was superb portrait of
him. 1t had been painted in Rome by an
eminent artist, and by Lady CarylS wish it
was hung at the end OF the picture gallery. |
often went thither 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 1t 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 10 music In the
cleaning, not when the lamps were lighted
or when the sun was shining; and one even
ing in May-an evening that will never be
forgotten by me- sang Shelley'S beautiful
Sercnade, which | had set to music of my
own.
On this night all the passion, all the wild
deep love of my heart was arOu,,1 and
sang as | had never sung before. Lady Caryl
was lying on the couch; Sir Adrian 81 in the
recess OF the window; the dying Ii / from
the western Sky filled the room. ! ~ u.d 1T
suppress my emotion, 81, rising fi"." ~ SO
| passed quickly through the half-Open win
dow, across the lawn, down to the white gate
where the lilacs grcw-thc gate that led to
the river.
My heart was full. | laid my hands on
the gate and bowed my head on them. Pres
emily heard footsteps, cacE one Of which
seemed to strike upon my heart, and voice
said
"Graciav'
Raising my face, saw him; he was look
ctr liyh in
eyes.
"Gracia," he said, forgive me for follow
ing you; could not help 1t. What was there
in that song you sangY'
knew what was In it; but could not tell
him that it held all the strength and passion
of my love.
What was there in itP' he continued. II
have heard many songs, but nothing ike
that, Gracia."
Itwas the very cutlery of human soul;
but he must not know it.
THE words have sweetness all their
own" was all | said; and for few minutes
he was silent.
My hero whom had wOrshipped at dis
lance, was standing close beside me now,
with something in his eyes and face had
never dared hope to see there.
IL do not wonder" he said, that you set
beautiful words to sweet harmOnles. Your
love of music can be seen in your face,
Gracia." Then, after closely watching Inc
for few moments, he added slowly, IL can
not tell where, but have seen face III some
| picture Just like yours"
Did 1t please your | asked eagerly; for
to win one word of commentator from his
lips would have done anything
please me"' he echoed. Il thought 1t
| simply the lOveliest face had ever seen"
Then IL could not have been like miner
l said incredulOuSly.
1T was 1t had the same dark eyes and
brows, the same delicate profile and beauti-
ful mouth, the same dark curls, even the
same dimple in the white chin. II must have
been picture of you, Gracia. Why, child"
he added paSSiOnately, you are beautiful as
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 bless
ed the light that led me thither! But my
beauty, the beauty of nameless, friendless
girl, what could it avail? Still, if 1t pleased
him, 1t was dear to me.
II shall always like my face better now
that know 1t pleases you" said gently.
A nightingale began to sing in the wood
near by, and we were silent for some min
utes listening; then he continued
please me? All, Gracia, that Is mild
wOrdi Do you think that have no eyes, no
earsr Do you think that have listened to
| your singing without seeing the beauty of
| your face? Do you think that have looked
at your face without recognizing your fair
sweet soul? | have said little to you; but l
| am sure understand YOU"
And was made so perfectly happy by
| those few words that should have been con-
| tent to die then and there. Oh, happy night,
the memory of which was never to leave mel
| 81 always thought" he went on, that TO
sing one must have loved and suffered. YCu
cannot have loved"
l could have laughed aloud at the words. l
had not only loved, but had almost worship
| ped him; and he knew nothing of it.
II have suffered" | answered slowly.
Poets learn in suffering what they tell In
song" he said. IF il Is suffering that has
taught you to sing, why" But he never
| finished the sentence. He took the hand
that was lying idly on the white bar of the
| gate. Poor child" he said, lat your age
| one ought TO know nothing but happineSsl
Tell me little of this lonely youth Of yours"
told him all that l remembered Of my
had he made me, so great was my delight,
that could hardly speak pityingly Of my
| self.
II promised you," he said, that wonld
do my best to unravel the mystery that sur
rounds you; but | have had no success"
| Then, after a pause, he added, IL wonder
what you will do with your life?''
A sudden horrible alarm lest he should
| pass out OF II seized mean alarm that was
| like a shock from the cold hand OF death.
II hope shall live here always 1 never
| want to 90 away" was my answer.
Il am glad that you are so happy here,
Gracia. Why should you go awayP MY
mother treats you well does She nOt?'
Yes; but Lady Caryl does not like me-"
said slowly.
What makes you think sop asked Sir
| Adrian.
| "She is never unkind to me, never exact
ing" / replied; but she seems TO have an
| idea that am an intruder"
| Nay, Gracia and the next moment he
had bent his fair head over my hand and
| kissed it,