Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1892-01-21
The fcvered fire Of girlish resentment,

the fevered fire Of girlish resentment,
the gnawng pangs of jealousy that dis
turbed her all the while that she was
sitting waiting for the great green cur
tain to be drawn up.
Until, Of n sudden, there was a
slight hustle on the row of seats be-
You'd, and Mr. Emery entered with his
mother
And then Hates overgloomed face
grew bright again. She drew long
breath of relief and turned to the
stage; it was as if the myriad gas
lights had all of sudden been turned
up; as IL all the mimic world of the
opera house had grown radiant
Never was voice sweeter in her ears
than the somewhat thin and exhausted
warblc of Mile Rosalic dc Vigue, the
prima donna; never did scenery glow
with such natural tints or footlights
shine moro softly. Kate Marcy de-
clared that the opera was 'pcrfec-
toni"
Eyes, but" said pert little Nina Cum
mings, "do look at Charley Emery, with
that little old woman! Why couldn't he
have como to sit with us!"
Kate bit her lip. In the crowd now
surging OUT of the aisles of the little
opera house she could scarcely venture
20 express hel entire opinion; but she
said, in a low, earnest tone:
81 don't know what you think of it,
Nina, but |, for my part, respect Mr..
Emery thousand times more for his
politcness to his mother"
And, almost at the same second, she
found herself looking directly into
Charles Emery's eyes.
For moment only. The crowd sep
arated them, almost ere they could
recognize one another; but Kate felt
sure-and her cheek glowed vivid scar
let at the certainty-thath he had heard
her words.
Charley" said little Mrs. Emery,
looking in her sons face, as they
emerged into the veil of softly falling
snow, which seemed to enwrap the
whole outer world in dim, dazzling mys-
terry, "who was that grip"
what girl, mother?" with little
pardonable hypocrisy.
"The one, Charley, with the big blue
eyes, and the sweet face, wrapped in a
white, fleccy sort of hood-the one who
said she respected you?"
st was Kate Marcy, mother"
"She has face like an angel" said
Mrs Emery, softly. ,-.------..-.,
The next day the foreman of the
rolling-mills went boldly to the old
Marcy homestead, whose red-briclS
gables, sheeted over with ivy, rose up
out of the leafless elms and beeches,
just beyond the noise and stir of busy
Crystalton.
miss Marcy" he declared, with
out intending to be an eavesdropper, /
heard what you said last night.
1T was not meant for your ears, Mr..
Emery" said Kate, coloring a soft rosy
pink.
But" he pursued, looking her full
in the face, II cannot be satisfied with
mere cold respect, Miss Marcy want
warmer, tendercr feeling toward my
self. If you could teach yourself to
lore me"
The dimples came out around Kate
Marcy's coral-red lips, wreathing her
smile in wondrous beauty.
"The lesson is already learned, Mr..
Emery" said she. 81 do love you. I
have loved you for long time"
And the foreman of the rolling mills
went home, envying neither king nor
prince that day.
but never should have loved you
so dearly" his young wife told him
afterward, IF you hadn't been SO good
to that dear little mother of yours In
my eyes You never looked half SC
handsome as when you stood bending
over her gray head, in the crowded
hall of the opera house that night"
"You see," said Emery, laughing al
her enthusiasm, 81 agreed with the
hero of the old Scotch ballad:
'Sweethoarts may get many one,
But OF mithers neer another"
Amy Randolph, In n Y. Ledger