The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1890-01-23
"Have you . plano at your iodsinssr'


asked Mrs. Miller.
Narcissa colored and shook her head.
II can not afford II" said she. II an
very poor"
'Then we will 60 to my house and try
your voice." said Mrs. Miller
The verdict was:
"Not bad. Your voice 10 tolerably
sweet, but not strong. dare say, how
ever, It may do for this OCCASION"
Poor Narcissa. This s'faint praise"
was contrast to what she had ex-
pected when she had first trained her
fresh young voice for the applause OF
breathless thousands. But she stihed
her modification and smiled her graft
tude for Mrs. Miller's encouragement
and recommendation. And then she
went home to practic. her ballads and
make the best bargain she could with
old Madame Monise, who kept q second
hand clothing emporium, for one even
ing's use of dark blue silk dress,
trimmed with black lace, which was not
80 cery much wornl For Narcissa had
nothing Of her own but the plainest
black alpaca, and q well-worn olive
green serge, neither Of which costumes,
however respectable in themselves,
were exactly adapted to the splendors
Of Mrs. Dayton's bathrooms.
The eventful evening arrived at last,
and the professional balladist found
herself seated at the piano, among the
glittering throng. She need not have
been 80 nervous, nobody took any no
tice Of her beyond the merest passing
glance. Mrs. Dayton herself, sweet
faced blonde in white satin and pearls,
came up to the singer when her first lit
tie song was finished, and thanked her
pleasantly.
81 will send waiter to you with
glass of wine," said Mrs. Dayton. "You
must be tired"
So until the time for her, next song
should come Narcissa sat quietly watch
ing the dancers, the promenaders, the
inevitable fiirters, while one Herr So
bieski did musical wonders upon the
violin. Presently she saw in the flower
garlanded portal of the door q tall fig
ure which she knew we'll, though years
had elapsed since last she looked upon
it-Charles Dallas self.
Sho turned to the plump, elderly lady
who sat next her, eating forced straw
berries and cream with countenanoe
Of the serenest satisfaction.
"Who is that gentleman by the door,"
she asked. "The gentleman talking to
Mrs. Dayton?"
The plump lady paused, with straw
berry as plump as herself poised upon
her gold spoon.
"Why," said she, 'it's Mr.. Dayton, to
be sure.'
81 think you must be mistaken" said
Narcissa, with her heart beating very
fast. "I-I am quite certain that I
used to know him years ago; and his
name was Dallas-Charles Dallas"
"It is the same one," said the plump,
elderly lady, nodding her head. "You
haven't heard of the death and eccentric
will of his rich uncle? Dallas inherited
a fortune fit for Prince, with only the
condition that he should add the sur
name Of the old miser.-Day yton-to his
own. Dallas-Dayton, it isnprinted on
the cards; and his wife was great heir
ess too; she was Miss Moneyman, of the
firm Of William Moneyman s. Co.. But
am told the marriage was quite love-
match. You can easily see how devoted
they are to each other. Mr.. Dayton
met with quite disappointment early
in life, have heard; but it is easy to
perceive"-witha a complacent chuckle-
"that the old wound is entirely healed
by this time"
So Narcissa Mindencroft sang her Sec
ond ballad and her third, and received
her check for ten dollars from Mrs. Dali
las-Dayton's gracious hand and went
home, quite unnoticcd and unrecognized
by the man to whom her smile or her
frown had once been like second fatel
There were great many people there,
and it was scarcely to be expected that
the host should seek out the paid bal
lad singer who trilled her notes for the
amusement of her guests, any more than
she should distinguish Herr Sobieski or
Signor Tremolini who played the violin
and "did" the cornet solos. 1t was all
right and natural enough.
But Narcissa cried quietly upon her
| pillow when she got back to her cheer
less room. A homeless, friendless,
loveless old maid 1T was hardly the sort
Of life she had anticipated when she
threw off Charles Dallas faithful love
like worn-out glove.
The lesson of life! We all have to
learn 1t, but to some it is bitterer, far,
than to others.-Amy Randolph, in N.
Y. Ledger.