The Monmouth inquirer., 1889-12-12
WON BY STRATAGEM.
By nj. A MAKINS

ABOUT II groups, anu the COhtl efoo W
tween the dark, still night outside and
this light and glamour within caused
Miss Rogers to feel dazed and blinded.
As she stood hesitating at the entrance,
she heard Alice's voice. and saw her ad-
yanc;ng across the hall towards her, ac-
companied by stranger. The girl came
unite up to her and laid her hand upon
her arm, almost affectionately, and call
ing her for the first time by her Chris
tian name, said:
81 have been looking for you every
where, Anna have been quite long
ing to introduce you to Mr.. Vanbruton.'
Miss Rogers bowed. and when. after
few commonplace remarks on that well
worn topic the weather, he turned to
speak to Alice, she looked at him search
ingiy, and with an eager interest
And 50 this good looking. but seem
ingly rather weak youth, was her in
tended victim, and Mr. Vanbruton was
young, and not middle aged as somehow
she had imagined him from Mrs. Patter-
sons vague reply to her question con
cerning his age. Well, SO much the bet
ter; the conquest would not be so diff
cult
'tAlice is certainly pretty, and | am
plain; she has the advantage of me in
that respect she thought as she fol-
lowed the two upstairs to their private
sitting room But still, she is almost
school miss, with not much ideas be-
yond mild Irritation, while am a
woman who knows something of hfe:
we shall see who has the stronger will.
The sitting room windows opened on
to balcony overlooking the lake, and
exclaiming at the beauty Of the night,
Alice stepped out
It was very beautiful The moon had
just risen, and the lake, touched by its
cold, soft rays had become radiant and
glorified.
A little boat was setting off from the
shore, laden with two happy, laughing
mortals: they shot out into the broad
belt of moonlight, and then disappeared
into the darkness beyond.
Who, gazing upon so calm scene as
this, could ever imagine such a thing as
storm? And yet perhaps in half an hour
those wonderful mountains may be hid
den. that deep blue sky, studded with
millions of heavenly lamps, be overcast
and black with threatening clouds, and
that gentle breeze transformed into a
moaning wind iashing the ripples into
waves.
Where will be that little boat? Wreck
ed, wrecked and drifting away, leaving
the lovers, hand clasped in hand, peace
fully lying many feet below in the dark,
treacherous water, quite safe now from
the cruel storm.
Miss Patterson did not invite the young
man to follow her, and ho stood uncer-
tainly by the window, looking after her
longingly, but feeling that it might be as
well to be polite to the companion"
"Will you play or sing something?"
said Alice, looking in at the window
"Mr. Vanbruton is devoted to music.
always regret am SO stupid and cannot
sympathize with him-do sing" Anna
moved towards the piano and Mr.. Van
bruton followed her to open it.
"Would you really like me to sing?"
she asked him softly, and glancing at
him with her deep, sleepy eyes.
Indeed / should nothing should like
better" he readily replied, and bestow-
ing more interest upon her than he had
hitherto done. "May get your music
for your
Inwardly blessing Providence that he
was not obliged to turn over any leaves
which he generally failed in doing at the
right time, the young man leant indo-
lently against the piano and prepared to
endure song.
(which sort do you like" inquired
Anna; "a sad song or a gay one: an old
or a new?"
"Any you like" he said absently. He
could see Alice's white dress, as she paced
the balcony slowly to and fro, and he
was wondering how soon he would be
released and able to join her
Quietly, and without effort, Miss Rog
ers struck few cords and then began to
sing. She had chosen that song, "My
Love Is Come" and surely never before
had those passionate words been sung
with so much passion. Vanished was
that hard, cold voice, and in its place a
rich, full contralto rang cut into the
evening air, which reached the passers-
by and made them pause to listen and to
envy such glorious gift.
Who has the talent more to be desired
the painter or the singer? think the
latter; because, although the actual evi-
dence of the formers gift lives long after
the master himself has passed away, and
is handed down from one generation to
another, the great singer can create such
wonderful pleasure at the moment, both
to himself and others He can stir hearts
with a power no painter ever knows,
and call to life emotions which lie dor
mant before painting, however beau
tiful.
She ceased, the last notes died away,
and still touching the keys gently with
one hand, she looked up at her compan-
ion. He was bending forward with q
look of unmistakable admiration in his
gray eyes.
"Sing again; do sing again, was all
he said, and she obeyed him. Song after
song he insisted ON until Alice appeared