Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1902-09-01

me at dark and said:
"You have been lonely today, I am
afraid, but we could not help 1t. This is a
sad anniversary with us. Our only sister
died this day five years ago, and we can't
forget IL. Our cousin" he said simply,
after moments hesitation, Flowed her
very dearly, too"
1 pressed his hand In silent sympathy,
and a few moments later / had the oppor-
tunity to offer the same silent assur-
ance to the others They all understood.
Come to our rooms at O." said the eld-
est again; 1--WE are accustomed on this
anniversary to hold a little memorial SER
vice at that hour. You will not be an in
truder."
In the room where we assembled.
wreathed in moss and. mountain flowers.
was a small painting, Of young girl, the
feminine prototype Of these vigorous but
sad-faced kinsmen, evidently a girl of
great spiritual beauty, If the artist were
true, and am sure he was. arose from
my intent study of the face with the COM
ment: "She was all soul" This was ex-
planned to the cousin. who was not as
familiar with English as the others A
look Of gratitude flushed hts face and
frightened his eyes. He turned impulsive-
ly and threw his arms around me.
''It shall be her epitaph,'' he said. "See,
will cut II upon the marble with my own
hands; "She is all SOUL" Carl Fritz Otto,
was 1t not true? And the soul is immortal
God! But If she lived she lives; and If
she lives she is here! He made a quick
gesture and threw himself face down on
the sofa.
1.-THE trouble is there? said Carl. gently
touching his own forehead. "She has new
er died. to him. She is always present."
The effect of the blended voices of these
men that night will never pass from me.
The song closed with Sullivans Lost
Chord" and before 1t was begun, as it was
at the earnest and insistent solicitation Of
the cousin, he came to me.
They call 1t fancy when I say she is
here. Listen!" he whispered. The four
voices never sounded so beautiful to me as
In that strangely sad melody, 49, triumph
of poet and musician.
1 did not realize what the cousin had
meant by his preparatory warning until
the song had reached the lines:
ut may be that in Heaven
I shall hear that chord again.
At this point an overtone arose. clear
and beautiful as the finest voice that ever
issued from woman's throat, and contin-
ued to the end. AS the music died away 1t
fingered almost lovingly in the room. My
friends bowed their heads and wept, but
/, with a swelling in heart and throat.
went and stood in silence by the window
which overlooks this great valley. And as
/ waited there above the deep masculine
voice of the cataract arose, the same far
voice. The cousin had come close to my
side: "She is here" he said. II have
known II all along"
We parted to meet again in the general
excitement over the disapp earance Of the
cousin, which had been discovered at
dawn. He had arisen and slipped away
during the night. We found him on tho
sand below the Bridal Veil falls, its white
fieecy foam in his clinched hands, fold
of it across his parted lips. But see, my
daughter, your shores of Attica are fad
ing away and the little argosy with the
dancing girl has found a harbor. Is 1t
beacon or a star beyond the farstretch-
ing headland? Let us seek our own safe
harbors.