Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1890-03-23

at Miriam Hunter. Besides her sits
handsome man, tall and elegant, who is
bending toward her most adoringly. She
is elegantly attired, and is as beautiful as
ever, and looking very happy. All this
he sees as a man in a dream, while the
color leaves his face, and look of deep
pain creeps into his sad eyes. "Where is
Marjorie? His sweet love, Marjorie" He
leans his face ON his hands with great
sigh of sorrow
The little stage bell tinkles, but he
hears it not. Then thunders of applause
shake the house and brings him back to
this world and to the thought that he has
come to hear great singer who can move
all hearts.
The singer advances slowly to the foot
lights. He turns to gaze dreamily and
with no great interest at the new singer,
when his eyes diIate and his face becomes
CHASTITY, and then fiushes deep crimson :;
for there, before his eyes, stands Marjorie,
her sweet face blooming and lovely eyes
alight at the applause which has greeted
her. Yes, it's Marjorie. His own sweet
Marjorie, standing there in creamy dress
OF lace, looped here and there with scarlet
! roses and her lovely head crowned with a
wreath of sweetest roses.
He looks and looks, and then she sings.
The same sweet, rich, full voice pouring
forth lis melody for that crowd of worship
ers as she sang to him alone on that sad
night so long ago. He falls back in his
chair and listens enwrapped, charmed,
amazed, scarcely drawing breath, gazing
at her as though he would never let her
escape from his loving gaze again. Mar
lorie, Marjorie Daw-his own lovely Mar
jorie Daw.
All is clear now. The empty house
Miriam's presence. But who Is the ele-
giant gentleman? 1t must be-yes it is
told in his attitude of devotion. 1t is her
husband
Now the concert is over. The pleasure
seekers, the lovers of music, have show
cred flowers and applause on the lovely
singer, and the great house is once more
empty.
Schubert, attending his mother, was not
| halt enthusiastic enough to suit that lady .
but she could not know ALL She was yery
enthusiastic in her praise of the lovely
singer. And Madame Wizard, the sister,
was not she lovely? Such devoted hus-
band !. And their love and admiration of
the singer; was anything ever more toucb-
| ing than this devotion between the sisters ?
And so wealthy too; their house on -
street, one of the most elegant in the CITY.
| The singer lives with them; never is seen
without her sister; quite the thing; more
eligible offers than any girl in town this
season, but refuses them ALL
Schubert, wondering, hoping, fearing,
| goes up to his room in such a tumult of
conflicting emotions that sleep Is out of
the question.
The next morning as Marjorie sits in her
boudoir her maid enters with card which
bears the name of Schubert Randolph
The color fades from her face but she
pinches it back and goes to meet the man
| she has loved so long, with a smile on her
lips and a tear in her heart.
her greeting of him is cool and calm.
lie almost gives up in despair. yet deter
mines to put his fate to the test. So when
the usual polite things have been said he
asks her of their life since last he saw
them.
Then she tells him of the death of their
two old friends, Barney and Elspeth. !"
and her securing position as singer, where
they had met Mr.. Ninard who had fallen
IN love with and married her sister.
You have seen my triumph" she said,
but almost with sigh, "and there is no
more to tell. But you?o
=" Marorie-Mlss Hunter havea con-
fession to make;" and her breath came
faster. May stand here before you while
make i" He rose and stood before her.
and, she rising, came and stood beside him
with her eyes on the floor and her hands
clasped IN front of her. She looked nm
sspeakably beautiful as she stood there in
her morning gown of richest velvet. fast
ened at the throat with finest lace.
Ills whole soul went out to her rs she
stood there beside him. But he must
make his confession as he felt, rather than
knew, that in those old DAYS she had mis-
understood him. Then he told her all
all his boyish love for the colden-haired
woman who had laughed at him: of his
mad, wild gallop from his home, and of
the consequences she already knew.
p" When | left you, Marjorie, | felt that
to offer you my love then would be wrong
ing you. But | loved you then, dear, as
have loved you ever since, nv Marjorie.
loved you then; but you are a thousand
times more dear to me now. VIII Won
come to me and make my life complete
Oh Marjorie Daw, say you love me You
cannot be cruel to me, my darling. |
have loved you so long"
He held out his arms to her, and as she
looked into his eyes the last doubt faded;
and she nestled against his bosom while
he pressed on her lips kiss so tender. so
passionate, so holy, that she felt her soul
drawn to his, and gave her life into his
hands ito make or mar; for time and eter
nifty; till death do us part"