The Washington critic., 1888-03-03
TWO SONGS.
WITH a rAUsE BETWEEN.
A Modern Romance of Woman's
Love and Mans Fidelity.

Love anu wan y E1ueltty.
BY SUSAN E. DICKSON in the Boston Ty0ceiier
Ashton Wentworth paused mo-
ment in the shadow of the great
naples beyond the gate he was about
to enter. 1t was woman's voice that
had delayed him there. lie had
heard the song often enough before,
but not the singer. There was no
contralto voice like that IN Honesdale
-"or in fifty other places larger than
this" he added under his breath. Ii
was rare enough to find one like it Oh
the stage,
at must be Ethel Vinton come for
that months visit before the wedding,
which Marion insisted upon. I did
not believe she would have left her
New York triumphs for so long
stay" For EthePs fame as belle and
beauty had reached Wentworth from
other lips, as well as from those of
his gay little cousin, Marion Wyn-
wood, soon to become Mrs. Marsden
Leigh. With Marion and Ethel it
had been the constantly recurring
story of boarding-school friendship,
and promise that whichever married
first should claim the other as brides
maid. Marion had demanded a long
visit from her friend before the we'd
ding day, "both because I want the
help of your taste in fifty matters"
she wrote, ''and because Marsden and
are to sail for South America di-
rectly after. He cannot be longer
spared from his post" All of this
Marion had told Wentworth, who
was to wait upon Ethel at the we'd
ding, and she had added with gay
laugh. "Take care of your heart,
cousin mine, invulnerable as you
deem it, for Ethel's sway over men
is something unquestionable; and, al
though she doesn't own it, l believe
there is no doubt that she is really en-
gagged to marry DR.. Paul Randolph as
soon as his health is restored. He
was her fathers ward, and they grew
up together"
All of this flashed across Went
worth's memory in much less time
than was occupied by Ethel's singing
of the second verse of one of Jean
Ingelow's ballads. Lingering, half
unconsciously, he took note Of the
sunset scene as curiously in harmony
with the impassioned tenderness and
pathos of that marvellous voice. For
years to come afterward the sight of
cloud mountains crowned with glow
ing crimson, rising above violet hills,
with long streamers of gold color
reaching over and trying to light up
the darkening east, brought to his
memory the close of the song, with
every tone of the voice that sang it
clear and full as he heard them now (:
My love, he stood at my right hand,
His eyes were grave and sweet;
Methought he said, In this fair land,
Oh Is II thus we meet?
o maid most dear, am not here,
have no place. no part,
No dwelling more by sea or shore,
But only in thy heart.
o fair dove. U fond dove.
Till night rose over the bourne
The dove on the mast. as we sailed past,
Did mourn, and mourn, and mourn"
The last notes of the accompani-
ment died into silence. Wentworth
passed through the gate, up the wind
ing gravel walk, and into the parlor
unannounced. He found gay party
of half dozen within, all well known
to him, except the tall, slight, dark
haired young woman, who had risen,
and was standing beside the piano.
She lifted her eyes and looked full in
his face as Marion introduced Ashton
Wentworth, and in that single glance
he saw that the highly-praised
beauty of this girl lay most OF all in
the mobility and expression of her
face. He had seen more regular fea-
lures many time, that were not half
so beautiful.
There were the usual commonplace
of conversation that follow an in
PRODUCTION, and then Wentworth said:
"You We're singing when l came to
the gate, Miss Vinton; will you not
favor us again ?''
She smiled a little, as she answered.
1T is some ones else turn, first.
Edith Lane had just promised to sing
when you entered the house."
Wentworth turned courteously to
the window, beside which Miss Lane
was standing, looking out along the
hill range, and up to its highest point,
! Irving's Cliff, which lifted its granite
facade into full view beyond the mar
row river. "Permit me to lead you
to the piano." he said.
Edith ran her fingers over the KEYS
in q prelude, in sweet minor key,
and then began singing in a clear,
pure voice Moore's touching, but now
rarely heard song, "She is far from
the land where her young hero
sleeps"
at is beautiful, but 50 sad" spoke
Harriet Grey, breaking the stiffness
that followed; "and so old-fashioned
that one had quite forgotten it. How
came you to choose it, Edith 2"
| II think" answered Edith, softly,
1T was Miss Ninton's song, and the
cliff"
"What in the world, may | ask"
said Marsden Leigh, "have the two
to do with each other-and your
song2"
"only that the cliff has always held
strange fascination for me ever
since | knew for whom It was named:
and, as a child, fell in love first
with his stirring story of the "Con-
quest of Granada" And almost
always when | think of him / re-
member how he was true through
life to the memory of Miss Hoffman,
his buried early love. 1t seems to
me that it was because he was so
tender and faithful himself that he
could appreciate Miss Curran's undy-
ing love--he could not otherwise have
told so simply and touchingly her
story in the 'Brokerp Heart; and you