Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1889-12-14

tue master.
II have paid 70 dear already for wicked
brother said Mr.. Henry, "tbat an bank.
rupt sven Of feara You have no placs left
where you can strike me.r
II will show you about that" says che
msster, and went softly away.
what will he do next, MackalArf" cries
Mr.. Henry.
"Iet me 20 away" said I. "My dear pa
tron. lot me go away; am but the beginning
of fresh sorrows"
We were not long In suspense as to the
nature of the new assault. Up 70 that hour
the master had played very close game with
Mrs. Henry; avoiding pointcdly 20 be alonc
with her, which took At the time for an
effect OF deccncy, but now think 10 be most
insidious art; meeting her, you may say, at
meal time only; and behaving, when he did
no, like an alfcctionate brother. Up to that
hour, you may say ho had scarce directly In
terfered between Mr.. Henry and his wife;
except In so far as no had Unanswered the
one quite fpth from tho good graces Of tho
other. Now, all that was to be changed; but
whether really in revenge, or because he was
wearying Of Durrisdeer and looked about for
some diversion, who but the devil shall decided
From that hour at least began the siege Of
Mrs. Henry; n thing 10 deftly carried on that
scarce know II she was aware Of II herself,
and that her husband must look on N silence
The first parallel wns opened tas was made to
appear by aoSidcnt The talk fell, as it did
often, on the exiles In France-so 1t glided to
the matter OF their songs
"Thcre is one," says tho master, "if you arc
curious In these matters, that has always
seemed to mo very moving. The poetry Is
harsh; and yet perhaps because Of my situa-
tion, 1t has always found the way to my
heart. II Is supposed to be sung, should
tell you, by an cxile's sweetheart; aud repro
sents, perhaps, not SO much tho truth OF what
she Is thinking, as the truth OF what he hopes
of her, poor soull In these far lands" And
here the master sighed. ~ protest IL is
pathetic sight when score OF rough Irish,
all common sentinels, get to this song; and
you may see by their falling tears, how 1t
strikes home TO them. 1t goes thus, father"
says he, very adroitly taking ny lord for his
listener, "and IL cannot get to tho end Of it,
you must think 1t Is a common case with us
exiles" And thereupon he struck up the same
air as had heard the colonel whistle; but
now to words, rustic indeed, yet most patheti-
cally setting forth poor girls aspirations
for an exiled lover: OF which one verse indeed
Tor something like it still sticks by me;
90 I win dye my petticoat~ed,
With my dear boy I'll beg INK bread,
Though all my friends should wish me dead,
For Willie among the r,ishes, or"
He sung it well even as a song; but he did
better yet as n performer | have heard
famous actors, when there was not dry eye
In the Edinburgh theatre; great wonder to
behold; but no more wonderful than how tho
master played upon that little ballad and on
those who heard him like an instrument, and
seemed now upon the point of failing, and
now to conquer his distress so that words and
music seemed 10 pour out of his own heart
aud his own past, and TO be aimed direct at
Mrs. Henry. And his heart went further
yet; for all was so delicately touched it
seemed impossible to suspect him of the last
design, and so far from making q parade of
emotion, you would have sworn he was
striving to DO calm. When IL came to all
end, we all sat silent for a time; he had
chosen the dusk of the afternoon, so that none
could sec bis neighbor's face, but it seemed as
II we held our breathing only my old lord
cleared his throat. The first to movo was the
singer who got TO his feet suddenly and soft
ly, and went and walked softly to and fro in
tho low end of the hall, Mr.. Henrys Gus
tomary place. We were to suppose that he
there struggled down the last Of his emotion;
for he presently returned and launched into
n disquisition ON the nature u tho Irish (al-
ways 80 much miscalled, and whom he de-
fended) In his natural voice; 80 that before
the lights were brought we were in the usual
course Of talk. But even then, methought
Mrs. Henry's face was shade pale, and for
another thing she withdrew almost at once.
The next sign was a friendship this insd-
ious devil struck up with innocent Miss
Katharine; so that they were always togeth-
er, hand in hand, or she climbing on his
knee, likc a pair of children. Like all his
diabolical acts, this cut in several ways. 1t
was the last stroke to Mr.. Henry, to see his
own babe debauched against him; 1t made
him harsh with the poor innocent, which
brought him still q peg lower In his wife's
esteem; and Ito conclude) it was n bond Of
union between the lady and tho master.
Under this influence, their old reserve melted
by daily stages. Presently there came walks
In the long shrubbery, talks in tho Bevidere,
and ! know not what tender familiarity. |
am sure Mrs Henry was like many good
woman; she had whole conscience, but
perhaps by the means of little winking.
For even to so dull an observer as myself, it
was plain her kindness was of more NOV
ing nature than the sistery. The tones of
her voice appeared more numerous; she had
a light and softness in her eye; she was more
gentle with all of us, even with Mr.. Henry,
even with myself; methought she breathed
of some quiet melancholy happiness.
To look on Mt this, what a torment it was
for Mr.. Henryl And yet it brought our
ultimate deliverance, as l am soon to tell.