The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1890-02-16
MUSIC HATH CHARMS.

did not approve Of my mothers idea
OF taking city boarders; STILL as she said.
as there were only two of them. it would
not make Eluch difference in our home
lie.
They We're an aunt. Mrs. Morton. and
her niece, Miss Emily Ives, and a strange
contrast they made in both appearance
and demeanor. Miss Ives was shrouded
IN the deepest Of mourning costumes.
and heavy black Grape veil completely
concealed her features. She was not a
widow. That I knew, because in writ
ing to engage the rooms Mrs. Morton
had called her niece Miss" and had
furthermore added that she had sustained
the loss of a friend which had thrown
her INTO state of almost hopeless mel
ancholia; that Mrs. Morton's object in
seeking a country place so far from New
York as the Genesee valley was in the
hope of effecting an entire change of
scene and thought for her afflicted niece.
Mrs. Morton joined US at our little rus
tic board, but Miss Ives took her meals
IN her room, refusing to cross the sill of
her door.
My curiosity was piqued.
us she ill?' l inquired of mother one
day.
''Oh, no." said mother, ''she is in per-
feet health; but when Mrs. Morton urges
her to come out with her and see the
beautiful scenery, she says that the sight
of nature, no matter how lovely. is hate
full to her. =
Mrs. Morton says that, unless some
thing is done to arouse Miss Ives from
her lethargy, she is afraid that she will
go melancholy mad-and, Godfrey, I've
been thinking that you may be able to
do something to arouse her.
Il, mother!' L exclaimed, starting.
what could l possibly do to arouse
her, as you call it?'
Ny mother replied to my question:
What could you do? why, you could
play and sing"
This was startling proposition, even
though was conceded to be the best mu-
stefan and to have the finest tenor voice
IN all the Genesee valley.
But, MOTHER | said, show can |,
who am nothing but an uncultivated
country pumpkin, sing before an accom-
plished musician, as am sure Miss Ives
must be-
Before she sank into this dull and
dreadful state of dependency, Miss Ives
WAS passionately fond of music-espe-
cially sacred music, but she viii never
listen to note now if she can help it.
Mrs. Morton and 1 have talked it all over;
told her that you have the kind of a
sympathetic voice that would melt the
heart of stone, and she is very anxious
that you should try the experiment.
Il don't ask you to sing before her;
but this afternoon Mrs. Morton and | are
going out. When we are gone, you sit
downto the piano and sing some of those
touching things you know sowell how to
sing"
When the ladies We're well out of the
way sat down to the piano, and very
softly began singing some quaint, old
fashioned and plaintive hymns. Between
each one Ipaused awhile, fully expecting
peremptory message from Miss Ives
for me to stop. None came, and after Il
While | fancied that heard light foot
step overheard.
Evidently Miss Ives had risen from the
sofa upon which she lay constantly. Was
she coming in person to rebuke me for
my temerity? My heart beat high with
fear-and hope.
With my whole soul in my task I rap
idly glided into the old, old hymn of
Jordan"
As the last words, There is rest for
me" died away, the door slowly opened
and there advanced towards me being
who seemed to me an angel, so fair was
she. L had never seen her face until
now, but that figure could never mis-
take
1t was Emily Ives who stood before
me, with eyes upturned as if entranced.
Sing, sing those words again." she
murmured.
Low almost as her own voice sang:
! have builded me mansion
That eternally shall stand,
And my stay will not be transient
La that fair and happy land;
On the other side of Jordan,
In the fair fields of Eden,
There is rest for the weary.
There is rest for me-
in the grave only there is rest" she
sighed, sinking YEARLY into chair;
speaking to herself she seemed, and un-
observant of my presence.
l spoke no word, but followed up the
advantage l had gained by softly striking
into Herrick's prayer for Comfort"
When the hoard OF many years,
Like feet cloud disappears,
And the futures full of fears,
Saviour Saviour, comfort me.
When the secret idols gone
That my poor heart yearned upon,
Desolate, bereft, alone
Saviour Saviour, comfort me!
The effect was most unexpected. At
the conclusion of the hymn she sprang
to her feet with a look of amazement,
almost of Indignation.
elbow came you, stranger" she de-
manded, imperiously, sto know my sto-
ry?"
Iw astonished in my turn, but repsied
calmly:
81 know nothing of your story, Miss
Ives.
''Then, how came you to choose a
hymn to fit it SO exactly? Ali see! My
aunt has told you"
Your aunt has told me nothing, l as
sure yen, Miss Ives: bun il is easy to see
that you are unhappy, and | selected a
hymn that hoped might comfort you"