The Press. (Stafford Springs, Conn.) 1883-1935, 1900-10-18
!; HER MEMORY:
1T WHISPERED
FOR YEARS.


with the darker green of the trees, and
In the far distance the everlasting
hills, majestically grand in the soft
purple beauty of their vast rolling out
line.
"Come back to Erin, mavourneen,
mavourneenw Joyously sweet and
clear, nearer and nearer, came the
voice, The professor sat motionless,
listening with bated breath, lest he lose
syllable Of that sweet old song, sung
In that sweet young voice. AS the
voice ceased he looked out Coming
toward the house, balancing in either
hand foaming pail of milk, was a
young girl. Even ere the song was
| finished a harsh, tired voice called
| sharply: "Come, Beth; don't yell So.
You'll wake baby, and I've been an
hour getting her to sleep. Hurry and
set the table,"
The professor grunted scornfully.
HIN! Yelling, is it? The voice Of an
angel! Music; 1 escape it not even
| here. I'll wait and listen"
| The world was two months older.
Into the best parlor shone the after
noon sunshine, playing gleefully on
walls that seemed to shrink from the
unaccustomed glare. In one of the
prim straight backed chairs, at the
front windows, sat Professor Helfen,
while opposite at the other window sat
a weary, sad faced woman, tearing idly
at the red wooden curtain tassel that
had never before been treated so
roughly.
| "My good woman, think! She has q
fortune in her voice. She has a voice
in thousand-a gem. But it is in the
rough. 1t needs polishing, years of it,
and it must be polished gently. Then
| it will shine-oh, dOch!"
Over in the corner slim, dark eyed
girl hung on these words. Oh, to see
this world, to have the dreams she had
dreamed come true! She found herself
listening again.
Eyes, yes, she can go, but bring her
back, bring her back. I've seven, but
1 can't spare her forever" Then some
how Beth found herself in her moth
er's arms, who for once in her life of
habitual self control had given way.
And so the ultimatum went forth. Beth
was to go.
Out in the garden twilight was fall
ing. The beautiful tender sky colors
were slowly fading into the dusk of
night. The very air, full of the scent
Of the hay, was a caress. The very
peace of it seemed a mockery to Paul
as he stood before her. How could ev-
erything be so serenely beautiful while
he was tasting the bitterness Of life?
He could not put it into any fine
phrases, this desOlateness of his. He
felt only that if this love should be
taken out of his life the whole worth of
his life was gone.
you say you'll remember, Beth, but
you won't-you won't. l know it as if
years had already passed"
Only boy in years, yet a mans
pain had agedzfhe tern young face.
The pain in hts xoIee touched the girl
looking up at hsR
'Tn work haglotl@th. By fall I'm
going to the cits wel Lawyer Boote.
couldn't love; aig thu no room for
love. Beth, don't let him teach you to
forget me. When he gives you such
lessons as that, let what say now SO
fill your mind that there will be room
for nothing elseI love you, Beth,
and some day you will be my wife.
Perhaps if yousshadn't been going
away I should never have had the
courage to tell you, at least for years.
But Pm glad you know"
"Listen, Paul. l shall never forget.
You know my nature too well to be-
lieve your own words. Forget you,
with whom 1 have grown up, who
have been the best part of my life?
All, Paul, you know better. This is
the hardest part of it Paul-to leave
you. 1t seems but a dream yet that
am really going going to see the
world that has seemed to exist only in
books. But the years will soon pass,
Paul. We are both young, and no les
son he may try to teach me can blot
out the teaching of Is years Of life
and with such a teacher. You believe
me, Paul"
And Paul, looking in the soft depth
of her souls eyes, was content.
The two weeks Of the opera had be-
gun. A long line Of carriages was
drawn up before c. hall, waiting to
deposit their burdens-stately brough-
ans smacking of solid responsibility,
smart landaus with gayly caparisoned
horses, while along the streets leading
to the hall groups Of fortunes less ia
vored subjects moved quickly, meeting
at last in front of the hall, where they
Joined the large, well groomed crowd
pushing slowly up the steps to sit in
judgment and perhaps ultimately to
pay tribute to the new prima donna,
Mile. Armstrong, a daughter of their
own land.
In the dressing room before q mirror
stood girl. still in the flush Of youth,
looking with unseeing eyes at the pale,
proud face framed in masses Of heavy
black hair, in which diamonds cleaned
like tears Of fire.
81 suppose they'll all be there in the
very 'front.' a row of awestruck faces"
She smiled as she thought of the six
staring faces that had gazed strangely
at her on her return home. would l
have been like them, wonder, with no
taste of the glorious dishes with which
the world tickles ones palate? Would
I, too, have been content with their
and my lot? Perhaps. Poor mother!
She hardly dared touch me till took
her bodily In my arms. How Mortified
she was when l told her I had been
on the stage! How she stammered
| when she asked me II "o4e that sort
of tight trousers that looked as If they
growed on!" -s4. ..a. Il.
She laughed heartily a second.
"And then went to the old orchard,
Paul. 1t was just such a night as that
one-the night you told me not to for
get. I'm afraid the forgetfulness Is
yours, after all, Paul. Foolish, I'M
worthy of answering though they may
have been, those letters came right
from my heart. Pshaw! That laugh
ter made my eyes dim for a moment.
4 d.