The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1892-03-30

| NOW, arc VIC utltE IL llSb COlnt y u
study of foliage, and next the old
bridge over the creek. Very pretty.
Foliage again-rocks-moon shadows;
how peculiar those arel how light-oh,
how lovelyl" and she paused, enrap-
tured by an exquisite little color sketch
of convolvuli.
sob, beautiful" and "Mr. Kenneth,
how could you deny us the pleasure of
seeing that?" were the outcries that
followed.
The maker of the sketch deigned no
answer, but looked sufficiently annoyed
as he stood in the door with folded
arms.
" Kenneth's lucky dog" said
young officer who had just sauntered
up to the door with Alice. every
thing of his is perfection"
"It isn't the work, but the fellow
that does it," commented dandy by
Bertha's side.
"Oh, now we come to the character
studies Here's Golah to begin with,
aud an Airy Fairy Lillian on the oppo-
site page. What contrast And oh,
here's the funniest charcoal study of
toadsl'
A laugh rose and grew as head after
head bent over the page. But it was
checked by an exclamation from Bertha,
who had turned leaf:
"Why, here's st. Cecilia, and, as l
live, it's the image of Miss CuthbertW
Every eye sought the governess' face
as she stood by the balustrade gazing
out at the moonlight with absent eyes
Confused by the general notice, she
said, hastily, "Of mel" and glanced
from the picture upheld by Bertha to
the face of the artist. The latter met
her look with another, half eager, half
deprecating, and flush rose to his
cheek as he tried to stammer formal
apology.
:" can not excuse the liberty | have
taken, but l can beg Miss Cuthbelt's
pardon. Her attitude and expression
as she sat at the organ the other even
ing struck me and haunted me until |
made sketch and christened it St.
Cecilia"
Excellent! And so like her!"
"Mr. Kenneth must have made quite
a study of the lady's face and figure"
Alice Fleming said, with a somewhat
derisive smile. "He ought to have
vote of thanks"
But l am afraid Miss Cuthbert, on
the contrary, is displeased with me-"
the proprietor of the sketch-book re.
marked, doubtfully.
Indeed, no." the governess has
tened to say. 81 am very glad you
thought my face worth sketching. 1t
has never been 80 much honored be-
fore"
"She owes you more substantial
thanks, Kenneth" said Mr.. Finnis,
with laugh. "She ought to take the
very attitude you have depicted, and
repay you by giving us song. All,
Miss Cuthbert, don't say NO!
The governess shrank back.
You must excuse me. Pm not in
the mood for singing"
Must one be in the mood?"
"Pray oblige Mr.. Kenneth, Miss
Cuthbert," said Bertha maliciously.
Il really cannot"
"When she says she cannot, she
means she will be urged"
The importantly, half joking, half
serious. was continued, until Alice
Fleming, who was already annoyed by
the affair of the portrait, quite lost pa
thence.
81 never BEFORE" she said, coldy,
"have seen Miss Cuthbert attempt the
role of the prima donna in society. She
does it very well; but l really think
we have had enough of it,"
Utter aud amazed silence followed
this speech. No one knew what to
say. Amy Cuthbert crimsoned to the
temples, and walked straight to the
piano, struggling hard to keep back the
tears that threaten to overflow.
Still possessed by the sadness and ex-
hausted by the excitement of the after.
noon, the effort of singing had seemed
impossible. But no sooner had she
touched the keys than she became con-
scious of an imperative desire-almost
necessity-of expressing her mood in
music. Stopping abruptly in light
prelude, she tossed aside the sheet of
music before her. Only few days be-
fore she had set to music little poem
that had struck her fancy, and now,
without generalization, she began TO
sing it, feeling as if all the sorrow and
despair in her soul were floating out on
the notes. Higher, sweeter, the voice
rose, freighted with infinite sadness
and yearning, startling the careless
| liSlCuClo ~ lulCuoO dllcullOu. lie pas
sionate tones, soaring above them,
seemed singing the dirge of hope:
"Ah, late rose, eaten to the heart
All, bird, whose southwark yearnings start
The one may fall, the other fly,
Why may not I?-Why may not I?'
Then slower, fainter, sadder, the
voice faltered to the close, laden with
regret too deep for words:
"Time's hollow hand has room for all
| The beauty of the world to fall
| Within; | give my little part,
With aching heart-with aching heart"
upon my word" said Miss Elem
ing, looking around the circle of as
tonished faces, as the last note died
away, Miss Cuthbert seems to be the
sensation of the EVENING"
by Jove" exclaimed an exquisite
beside her, remembering to raise fan
he had dropped five minutes before,
"you may we'll say that. She'd make
a sensation anywhere"
The sinpar was surrOupdad and