St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1889-10-19

ClldiubtI-d CudlJUCl WIN AONPs hANaN
windows looking on to the ROSpigliOn
gardens of Rome.
A beautiful chamber, the studio of
woman artist, whose name was well
known to the world of art. 1t was
sighted by shaded lamps, and out of
shadowy corners cleaned rich, artistic
draperies and stands Of palms and
flowers and odd, quaint cabinets laden
with china and bronze and bric-a-brac.
a group of people were seated near
the open fireplace; there was fra
GRANGE of tea and delicate cOmeStibles,
and now and then the chink Of cups and
spoons and soft hum of voices. 1t was
the day on which Nine. Moncrietfe re-
ceived, the one day IN the week on which
her friends and admirers were privileged
to intrude on her solitude; for, as rule.
she lived very solitary life, and never
had been known to accept any OF the In
yitationS showered upon her by the
English and foreign society who win
tered at Rome.
She sat now on a low chair by the fire.
A woman no longer young, and with
face whose pale ard chiSeled beauty
was marred by an expression OF intense
sadneSS-the face of a woman for whom
life had held tragedy of no common
kind. Her eyes were gazing dreamlly
into the clear, bright flames; her hand,
hanging loosely by her side, was claspe'
in that of young and very lovely girr
who was kneelIng Oh the soft rug at he'd
feet.
HER ERRAND.
Music has many advantages. In SOcI-
ETY. it readily lends itself to use as well
as entertainment-iti is an incentive to
confidence and conversation. The
voices rose and full in rhythmical ca
dence. Subdued in Difference to an oc-
casional chord: but her companion, as
if embOldened by the murmurs around,
nestled closer Snd whispered an en-
treaty.
Il have come to-day" she said, "just
to plead my cause once more. Do say
you will come. 1t will be the one thing
necessary to complete my happiness.
Surely you won't refuse that"
The woman started, as If aroused from
some deep train OF thought. Her eyes
turned to the young. eager face, and
something tender and compassionate
came into their gaze.
NDear Estelle." she said, 81 love you
too well to refuse any request that
might tend to your happiness. would
do more for you than any one know
here in Rome, but l cannot be present
at your bridal tomorrow. Do not ask
it, for | hate to refuse you anything"
"But l do ask it. dear Nine. Mon
crieffe," pleaded the spoiled beauty, the
belle and heress of the winter city.
''YOu know l always get what l want,
and l want yOu-tO-mOrrOW."
''My dear" said the artist, sadly, eff
/ could break my rule for any one,
would do it for you: but cannot. Moth
ing could induce ME TO attend a mar
rage ceremOny-eyen yours"
You always say that, know. But
why? Is there any thing you fear? Or is
1t that such a ceremony recalls"
SHADOWS OF THE PAST.
Yes" the woman interrupted; at
recalls-it aWakenS-it is full of pain
and horror to me. Estella, should he
only a shadow to the sunshine of your
bridal. Do not press the matter fur
tner.'
Tie giri was silent. She knelt there
IN the freight picture Of bright and
beautiful youth, to whom the future
only showed itself in the golden light of
hope. Softly the music rose and fell.
1t had changed now to a plaintive,
minor melody. The woman Shivered as
the mournful notes echoed through the
vast chamber.
lit was Just such scene as this" she
said, suddenly, 1.-THE eve of another
wedding day, and the music-oh,
heavens! Why does he play that? Why
does he play that?"
f'Shall | stop him?" cried the girl,
terrified by the agony OF the face bent
suddenly low in the light of the leaping
flames.
She half-rose to her feet. but a geSt-
ur from that slender, trembling hand
stayed her impulse, and she resumed
her former attitude.
"Did | brighten you, Estelle? / am
weaker than ] thought. No, don't
move, child; stay there, and while the
music lasts l will try to speak, to tell
YOU the reason of a refusal that seems
so ungraciOus thing. IL is 10 caprice,
Estelle, for l love you as ifyou were my
own child, and l have prayed for your
happiness ever since knew that Prince
GiOvoli had won your heart.
You wish to know why / cannot be
guest at your wedding? Shall tell you
my story, EStelle. or will it brighten
you? We live in an age Of realiSm-of
incredulity. No one believes now in
dreams or signs, or preSentiments, and
vet l know the truth of each and all of
these so well that | am an old woman
before my time, and l shall carry a
broken heart with me to my grave for
the sake of one"
The girl trembled and drew closer.
"l always knew" she said. ''that you
had suffered; that some great trouble"
You shall hear it if you WILL" said
the woman, in strange, dull voice.
She bent her head. The girls blue
eyes noted wonderingly the mingled
i Of I,n off 4hioIy hoir N
haggard lines about the beautiful, pale
lips.
A STORY OF SORROW.
SIT is years ago." she said, quietly,
sand such a girl as you are now wei
coined even as you welcome the eve of
her bridal day. Not a cloud, not
shadow, not a fOrebOding! With the
memory of her lovers kiss she fell
asleep that night; but in that sleep
there shaped itself a dream-a dream
Strange-te rrible-OminOus. She saw
herself standing in an old churchyard-
a dreaTy, half ruined place, melancholy
with cypress and yewS; and old and
forgotten graves, moss grown and
neglected. AS she stood, something
impelled her to look more closely at the
headstone Of one by which she stood.
ION it a name was given, and date.
The name was her lovers name; the
date, not three weeks after her destined
wedding day. Cold and trembling she
aWoke, and tried to Danish the memory
OF thad dreadful place. 1t haunted her
throughout that happy marriage day.
1t turned her cold and faint, even amid
her bridegroOm's passionate murmurs.
He, keen-sighted, with husbands new
born rights, demanded to know the
cause of her pallor and her terrified
looks. In despair she told him, only
naming herself as the subject OF this
hateful presentiment. He laughed at
her fears, and ere a week had passed
she had almost forgotten them amid the
joys and the tenderness shOwered upon
her life. They wandered from place to
place in sunny Italy, in the lovelieSt
hooks and in the loVeliest season of the
year. They took no count of time.
Strong in health, rich in love and beau
ty and worldly goods, life was like
happy dream that lulled them to deep
est rest. One day they had halted at
little out-of-the-Way village among the
Tnounfainc IF alOcp on SUOCQf and