The Jersey City news. (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1889-1906, 1889-09-24

fancy | was stammerlng out something
about the dim lights and my resemblance
to my cousin. Then. desperate to es-
cape, l offered to so in search of her, but
it was a short search. for there stood
Ellen in the doorway, her great solemn
eyes full of-was it trouble or gladness,
or yieldingP It seemed all three, but l
never could read her eyes. For a full
second she stood thus, then, without
greeting of any kind to our guest, crossed
to the piano and-who ever dreamed she
could play like that? The same waltz of
which / had been SO proud
Yes, it was the same. but she made US
feel it, breathe to it, understand it. /
knew that through it she was telling this
man whom she had not deigaed to well
come something that had sorrow in it
only as a bright cloud holds rain. There
was such joy over it all. It was tears
and laughter going wild! What had
come over this Ellen of ours? Mr.. Max
well, instead of complimenting her as a
man in evening dress is supposed to do,
was standing 30 close as almost to touch
her, his head thrown back as though
ssthe earth and the ~fullness thereof were
his. Then that stranger took our Ellen
in his arms and kissed her, kissed her
slowly as I have seer devout people kiss
their cross, as mother kisses me when
she thinks me sleeping.
They had quite forgotten my exist
ence, but this time / did not forget my
self and crept away to Aunt Jean, for
once too full of wonder and something
like fear to even ask a question.
1t is some unholy hour in the morning.
! am too busy thinking to look at my
watch. Nell came to my room. came OF
her own free will, her great, sweet eyes
fairly dazzling, and, yes, told me all
without asking. l don't like to think
what I might have done if she had not.
/ can only wonder and wonder what
good fairy set me to playing that waltz
tonight. 1t is one of Helen's favorites. it
seems, and long ago when she was Mr..
Maxwell's promised wife she would play
it over and over again during the long
evenings until it grew to be, as he put it,
ga part of their love-" One night when,
as usual, she wasplayingQ wonder if she
looked as she did tonight, with that coil
of white drapery about herr, Mr.. Max
well was standing at the piano; but, you
see, I'm in such a hurry to tell it that it
gets. terribly mixed, SO I'll try and put it
in her words; THAT night he told me-"
she said, ''told me because he was too
honorable to marry me without, some
thing that l could not forgive. You will
not ask what, Daisy; l cannot tell you
that, but it had happened before we met,
and he had repented bitterly enough, but
l sent him away.
"For a long, long time after that I saw
nothing of him. Then he wrote, as he
did today, that he would como; not any
request that he might, simply that he
would be here in the evening. / tried to
receive him as / would any friend, but
when he asked for the old waltz, SO long
untouched, / broke down. l could not
play it. would not try. Some time,
Ellen, when you a forgive, you will
play it for mey he asked. That was all;
he would not plead again. ~Sfncethen he
has come, but | would not trust myself
to even see him, and tonight I would
not and was holding myself away, my
foolish pride fighting with the ache at
my heart, when I heardyou at the piano,
heard that old waltz of ours, heard his
quick step cross the hall. Then there
flashed through me all his great sudden
Joy, his bitter, bitter disappointment,
then-good night. little Daisy.@