San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1893-03-30
The Valley of The Laurel.
A Mexican Fantasia.

MISS NcClIld 1ldI ptISOll lldIl IuSJ
risen from the piano after eXecu-
ting a difficult piece of classical
music. She was satisfied with
herself, and the hard expression
which usually rested on her face,
seemed to be SOftened somewhat.
There were two causes which
might account for this. Firstly,
that as she played without her
notes, she did not need her glasses.
Secondly, that the gentleman
whom she had decided for a lover,
sat near the instrument and list
ened with rapt attention.
When a man don't try to talk
through such piece as that, and
actually follows every note it means
something" she thought in the
depths, of her well regulated soul.
The occasion was small must
| cal gathering at the Harperson
mansion, and it's hero was the
young civil engineer recently re-
turned from Mexico. His name
was Robert Haynord, and it was
generally supposed that the intel
lectual Cecilia looked upon him
with marked favor.
OF this fact HaynOrd himself
had no manner of doubt, it was as
apparent to him as her wealth, her
piety or her prime good looks. The
| whole family We're the cream of
Presbyterian aristrOcracy, he was
wont to say to himself rather
drearily, a cream that was safe and
refreshing, even if little blue.
After rising from the piano, her
bright eyes turned to him.
"YOur music carried me back
into the scenes | have just left "he
said," the dreamy character of the
nocturne is particularly akin to
the spanish nature.'
| "Iou have told us all very little
really of Mexico when you have a
chance for a tete a tete again, |
shall claim your promise to inform
me more fully"
"ROb has not gotten over the diff
ference in climate yet" laughed
one of the young men. "He looks
with surprise on March snow in
New Hork-gives himself lots of
foreign air-just as if he had not
slid upon it many a time-thc
| snow | mean not the city,"
"Life was much simpler then"
HaynOI1l answered. 81 wore red
mittens, Cecilia, and you We're
practicing c scale"
"Yes," she replied with her cter-
nal practically, "but you could not
keep on with the red mittens and
the nOcturine was better than the
scale"
| Haynord fingered after the other
guests were gone. Mr.. l1arperSOn
disappeared, whether to slumbel
or religious reviews, he did not
know, and he stood with Cecilia at
the west window. Outside the
small snow flakes were falling
which seem so perfuqctOry in
spring. The white world about
him, the pale blonde woman by his
side, the calm, the GOODNESS, the
rest of this northern world ap-
pealed to him. After all it was his
world too, and the tropics We're but
a dream.
| That day he had been offered a
professorship at the s. college
Cecilia adOrrd professors. She was
formed by nature for an instruc-
tors bride. There were the Harper,
sons thousands to be cOnSid-
cred too, and the luxurious
home which awaited the hus-
band of their sole inheritrix
He moved aside the heavy win
dow curtain, and with the sensa-
ton of man that jumps into an
icy stream, observed:
"What is your ideal of a married
life, Cecilia"
The organ which stood for a heart
in the young wOman's mechanism,
gave bound, quite new in her en-
| pGripnCp, but true to her COlOrS, she
answered the exact truth, and in
| measured tones:
ain the first place, ! should not
want to leave mother and father.
| This house and the one in the
country are both dear to me. |
should wish my husband to have a
serious and honorable occupation.
About the money, | should not
care. | should want him to be in
touch with us in religion and poll
| tics"
Her light blue eyes began to
kindle family.
"Whcn my husband and father
We're at leisure, we could travel
over this country in the private
car we bought last year. like to