Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-08-29

proudly Ilneu mouth, might readily nave
melted a painter to try and reproduce In
art what nature had SO exquisitely rem
dered. Yes, Lady Isobel Langton was
truly beautiful in the full sense of the
word, the most beautiful of queenly
women, and as she passed in the doorway
with the full light of the hall beyond fall.
ing on her in her costly velvet robe, l was
fairly dazzled by her lovelines. For a
momeut only she stood peering into the
darkness, then she advanced into the
room, quickly followed by servant bear
ing lamp.
"Why, Madeline" she said with a
clear ringing voice, such as could not fall
to rivet the most wandering attention,
''what has become of you and the errand
sent you onP"
In minute a slight girlish figure bound
ed to her side. And how childish II
seemed in contrast 81 am 80 sorry II
kept you In suspense, Lso. meant to
have returned to you at once but /, that
is he"-wlth a slight motion of her head
in my direction, ''is here"
$50 perceive" said the elder lady with
a smile.
I had risen and now advanced some
what awkwardly forward. 81 hope you
are feeling better than last night" she
continued kindly, with her beautiful eyes
scanning not unkindly my face.
''Thank you," replied, bowling low, an
felt 1 needs must before the regal beauty.
"You are too kind. l am at a loss how
to thank you for your most unequa1ed
goodness"
My words seemed to surprise the lady.
She drew back step or two.
''Madoline," she said In some surprise,
81 think there has been some mistake
here. Surely this gentleman is not what
we take him to be-"
"Not what, Iso ?" asked the younger girl
wonderinRly.
The lady paused for reply in con-
fusion till felt driven to go to her assist
ance You fear am here under false
pretenses; Is it not SO, madameP So far
you do me an injustice. If there is aught
about me which leads you to think am
not the poor travelling musician whom you
so mercifully befriended last night fear
misfortune and fate over which have
no control must be the only excuse for
you seeing me as am" And try as I
would flush of pride would rise to my
face"
Lady Isobel. for she the mistress of the
house 1t was, answered my look frankly.
1.-THE mistake, 1 fear, is all mine. Last
night they told me that a poor harpist
had found his way to my door, outside
which he lay ILL., perhaps dying. Could
refuse him shelterP 1 did not. II you
are the same let me hope that you are re-
covered from your indisposition." Queenly
as she was in her dignity, even she could
not hide the awkwardness of the situationl
l could see she vas evidently surprised
at something in me. Was 1t that the poor
harpist had more about him Of the gen.
tleman than what she had expectedf
Doubtless.
Yes" 1 said, "I am the harpist.
There is no mistake; l wished to leave the
place without seeing you, but feared you
might lay ingratitude as well as poverty to
my charge / could not entirely sup
press the ring of bitterness in my tone.
"But Let me now thank you sincerely
for your great unexampled kindness,
which. believe me, though / may never re-
pay it, yet will never forget May your
servant restore TO me my harpp I Am
loath to trespass on your generosity any
longer"
My manner, 1 saw, had made a great
impression upon my hostess. She wal
fairly puzzled by it. 1 however waited
for no answer, but turned to leave the
room. Fer did SO, however, little angel
face bounded forward, and with lips sadly
puckered into discontinued frown, said,
"Are you really going without playing
to us again, without telling US even your
namer'
81 shall be only too happy to play to
you," l answered quickly, and with a
quick glance at the stately lady of the
house. 1t Is the least I can do; and for
the rest, since you ask 1t, my name ia
Leonard CASTOR"
Try as would, when I uttered the
name of which, till then, had no reason
to be ashamed, could not repel feeling
of deep humility that I should have to
own it under such circumstances
To my surprise Lady Isabel started and
advanced a step towards me.
"Leonard Gaston," she repeated, land
your fathers nameP"
"Andros Castor. He was musician,
and died years ago"
This, then, explains the likeness"
said Lady Isobel. The moment entered
this room tonight, your face struck me as
one familiar to me- l wonder my memo
ry did not supply sooner the key to the
mystery"
land what is that ," asked wonder
| ingly.
THAT In the poor harpist whom was so
| luckily able to befriend, recognize the
son of my old and dearly loved teacher,
Andres CASTOR"
"You knew my fatherH' 1 asked.
| "Have you never heard him speak of
| ISobel del Fara?'
| .Spe1k of herP' Ny mother told me
that next to herself the little Spanish girl
was his theme of delight. sis it possible
| you are shef"
stranger coincidence, is 1t possible you
are my old masters sonf Stay, here is
something to make the point indisput-
able" and from a side table Lady Isobel
reached a, portrait In a velvet frame.
"Yes" she saids 'See Madeline, Is he not
| ike"
Little angel face eagerly seized che pic
tutre, and as stood like one in dream
trying to comprehend what heard, what
this sudden and unexpected discovery OF
such friend as the pet pupil of my dead
father Was likely to prove to me, Lady
Isobel crossed to my side with that ma
jestic tread of hers, and bending her
stately head, her beautiful face full of
gladness, took my hand and pressed II
warmly within her own white shapely
| ones.
"Leonard CASTOR, for your father!
sake, welcome, thrice welcome, to my
husbands homeP'
MADAME, faltered, you are too kind
too generous" I got no farther, my
composure gave way entirely, and sinking
on to a couch at my side, hid my face II
1