Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1899-07-16

7 LerVdlS interrupted Dy d ulSllcu VI SoHS
"a short stornella, or continuous ball
lad, with chorus, in which everybody
unites-even the children and quadru-
peds joining in it, though discordantly.
Looking down from her loegia, the
syndico's daughter sees and hears all
this, but without giving eyes or ears to
it. Neither the scenes nor the songs are
new to her. She has been witness of
the one and listened to the other. al
most every day of her life. Not taking
part in either. for she is signorina,
and, as this, socially excluded from
keeping company with the people on the
streets. Still is she anything but vain
or proud On the contrary, condescend-
ing to the utmost her superior station
permits; gentle to the children. kind
to the poor, respected by everybody,
and by almost by every one beloved.
Notwithstanding, she leads but lonely
life in this her native village. which
affords her no society, save the parish
priest-a parsonage not particularly in
teresting. Now and then she receives
visit from some far-off friend. and
once or twice year her father takes her
to Rome. But of late she has been
lonelier than ever. since her brother
turned artist, and. leaving home, has
become domiciled to the city. A good
brother is Luigi, a good son besides;
this having Influenced him to adopt his
present profession. A young fellow of
strong sense and independent spirit, he
against pecuniary embarrassment and
has determined. instead of increasing
to tighten it. This he has been able
to do, having achieved some profess
sional success. His pictures, COM
handing good prices, he rarely absents
himself from his studio. and sticks
close to his easel. Only on Saturdays
and Sundays does he make an excep
ton, devoting these two days to visit
tllS v al III OiAOs WHICH he ISdCuSS
every Saturday at the hour of noon
His sister looks forward with pleasant
anticipation to this hebdomadal visit,
which she is as sure of receiving as
that the sun will shine. Never before
has he failed, either in the day or hour.
But now the day has once more come,
the hour has long gone past, for it is
late in the evening, and he has not
yet made appearance. What can be
/. delaying him? A question she had
several times put to her waiting maid,
Beppa, who sits in the balcony beside
her, the eyes of both bent down the
street which leads in the direction of
Rome.
The young lady, at first only impa-
tient,> soon became anxious; all the
more that, on this particular Saturday,
she feel a depression she cannot ac-
count for, and from which Beppa-a
creature OF infinite humor- has vainly
endeavored to arouse her The con-
versation of the maid. spiced with the
gayest gossip of the village, has no ef-
feet; and throughout the afternoon her
mistress remains prey to low
spirits. Still lower as the declining
sun tells her that something unusual
has happened to her dear brother, else
he would have long since been beside
her. Beppa invents reasons endeavor-
ing to reassure her. but cannot The
well meant arguments fall idly upon
the signorina's ears. and scarce elicit
reply. Nothing said will draw her out
of herself. or remove the apprehension
that some misfortune has befallen her
brother She sits in the loggia look
ing along the street. 1t opens west
ward. and she sees the sun sinking be-
hind Monte Gennaro-the highest sum-
nit OF the Sabine Apprenticeship no
Luigi The golden orb goes down, the
last rays alone linger on the noun
tain's top, while town and valley have
put on the purple robes of twilight, but
still no Luigi. And now, more than
ever, is she sad, anxious, apprehen-
sive. Even the return of her father,
who has been all day absent, fails to
relieve her anxiety. He but shares it,
equally surprised as perplexed. at his
sons unexplained absence. Never be-
fore has Luigi missed making one of
their limited family circle on the last
day of the week, always reunited. The
father can only join his daughter In
asking what neither: can answer
why comes he not?"
For now night has arrived, no Luigi.
Darkness has spread its sable pail over
the village, but, though footsteps re-
sound in the streets, none is heard to
make stop at the door of that house,
in which ears are intently listening:
no passing figure pauses in front OF
those windows, through which eyes
are watching anxiously and long-till
wearied nature and WORKOUT strength
seeks restoration in sleep.
Another sun rises over the village of
Val di Orno, bright as ever shone in an
Italian sky. II brings no brightness to
the house of francesca Torreani-giv-