The Dickinson press., 1892-02-20

AntO l6ellng. ANA TINS was my song
A DEAD LOVE.
"Down deep in my heart in its last calm
A dear dead love lies buried deep;
l clasped it once in a long embrace,
And closed the eyes and yelled the face
l never again might see.
l breathed no word and I shed no tear,
But the onward years looked dark and
drear.
And I knew, by the throbs of mortal pain
That a sweetness had hed which neve
Would in life come back to me.
and dreams of the past, like roses, still
Their fragrance around my cherished dead
While tears that ever are falling unseen,
Like soft summer rain, keeps its memory
As the turf of the church-yard sod.
And weeping and wetching I pray ant
wait
That an angel may open the golden gate;
For l think that the love oflong ago,
Though cold and dead to me here below,
Will be mine in the rest OF God"
There was a little stir in the room wher
my son was finished. Thelast words RAM
through my brain-"WM be mine in tn,
rest of God" l had touched him. AL
those other men and women were nothing
to me---only shadows. They had nc iden
tity. l saw moving figures, ! heard voices
but to me Mark was there alone.
1 had made him feel. Then, so true, 81
weak a oma was / that l longed to eros
the room and kiss the pain away. TIL
odor of violets came to me; Lady Severn
was standing by my side.
"How exquisitely yousing, Miss Chester
You make me long for things that l hav'
quite forgotten. How differently weshoult
all live if we could lead our lives owe
again!"
The brilliant face was soitened; the hard
metallic light had died from her eyes. ]
liked her better in that moment than l haC
before. Then l heard Lady Yorke asking
Mark to sing. l remembered the ricl
CHEEKY voice that had trolled out many
love songs
You never refused to sing for me in
Italy, said Lady Yorke; why refuse
here?"
lord Severne has q beautiful voice and
a perfect ear" Lady Severne remarked.
turning to me.
1t comtorted me Just a little to remember
that had known that long before she did.
An uncomfortable trembling came over
me, for Mark stood by, my side.
"Will you play Lord Severne's accom-
paniment?" asked Lady Yorke.
~ would rather not l replied:
81 will" said Lady Severne; II like to
play for him."
Was he thinking of her or thinking OF
me? Not of ME. He could not sing such
words to me now; for the song he had
Dearest Heart"
"All the dreaming is broken through;
Both what is done and undone I rue.
Nothing is steadfast nothing is true,
But your love for me, and my love for
you,
MY dearest, dearest heartl
"When the winds are loud. when the
When the roses come, when the roses
One thought, M feeling, is all I know.
My dearest, dearest hearth
1.-THE time is weary, the year is old,
And the light of the lily burns close to the
The grave is cruel, the grave is cold,
But the other side is the city Of gold,
My dearest heart, my dearest heart!"
The lights and the flowers, the tair faces
and jewels, swan before me. 1t seemed to
me that l was faint and ill with the odor Of
violets. 1 went from the piano to the
other end OF the room. / could sing nc
more that night. A tall jardiniere. filled
with exquisite white hyacinth,s, whioh.to9od
the white fragrant flowers l could see and
hear all that passed. Lady Yorke came to
me there, and said that / must rest.
you musical people take so much out Of
yourselves" she said. you throw your
whole souls into your songs. Look at
Lord severne. Who IS his dearest heart
l wonder7"
Lady S%everne," I replied quickly.
But Lady Yorke shook her head.
"This is q marriage / cannot under
stand, !" she said slowly; ''but l begin to
see what Lord Severne's secret 49,"
l would have given worlds for courage
to ask her to explain her words, but I did
not dare to do so.
She left ME, and l watched husband and
wife. There was something between them
some shadow. She seemed to me half
afraid of him. He regarded her closely.
He was i'll at ease if she said much, if she
laughed or attracted much attention. He
reminded me of some II b had
the care of a froward child always on the
never looked at each other with eyes of
trust or love. l had not watched them one
half hour before l felt and saw that Mark
was wretched.
What could it be? Lady severne wa
beautiful, graceful, elegant, and well-bred.
What could be wrong with herr There
was something, I felt
Later on that evening, when l sat with
the hour OF dismissal, Lady Yorke came to
me again. you look SO tired. Miss Ches.
ter, she said. 81 will not ask you to sing"
We both glanced across the room to
where Lady S%everne, in her white velvet
and diamonds, was the center Of laughing
gr egHev hs.ut;f,, .b. ;,,n ..,a =
words seemed to be wrung from me in very
bitterness of heart.
.'Yes," said Lady Yorke. "Itis astrange
thing that the canker always eats the heart
of the fairsst rose;" and then, seeming
vexed at her own words, she hastsnsA to
change the subject.
When she had done, I Hooked long and
earnestly at Marks wife. What could be
wrong with this beautiful woman? Nothing
with her moral character. or she would not
be here at Westwood: With all .her non
prouder woman living than Lady Yorke.
She would not have associated with q
duchess who had a blot on her character.
There could be nothing of that kind. I
saw no blemish in Lady Severne's manner.
She was lively, animated, but not FAST"
she was witty and clever but not 'loud."I
lost myselfin conjecture. Only onething was
with Marks wife, and between them there
was no love.
The days that followed were busy ones.
The month OF May was bright and warm.
Lady Yorke enjoyed picnics. and several
were organized. Whatever tiirtations were
going on had 10 interest for me; saw only
Mark and Marks wife. He and l never
spoke, we never exchanged even a look;
we were as perfect strangers. The only
time we broke through our rule ofsilence
was when he told me that he hoped 1 would
forgive the intrusion of his presence, but
that he could not leave Westwood so soon
as he had intended, Lady Severne was not
willing.
I did not go to any of the picnics. Lady
4orke seemed to understand that I was
neither well nor happy just then, and she
was very kind to me; Noticed that once
or twice Lady Severne was absent.
She remained at home while the Others
went, and or those days l saw uneasiness
on Lady Yorke's face, and misery in Marks
eyes. On these occasions Lady Severne re-.
malned secluded IN her own room, and her
maid in strict attendance upon her.
That maid, Martha Clyde by name, was
. puzzle to me. Prim, reticent. never using
two WORDS where one. word would suffice,
kind, but with never a smile on her face;