The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1908-03-14

which, instead OF pleasing her, only
made her anxious.
She feared that the opera would
not be over in time, that she woulc
be ''too late" Her mind was full
of the errand of mercy she had SCI
herself to perform. She could moi
help picturing to herself the dying
man lying there, gradually sinking
becoming weaker and weaker, and
she felt that, of all the vast audience
in front of her, there was not one
who, knowing what she knew, would
wish to detain her.
1t was nearly midnight before the
curtain finally fell. Without stop
ping to change anything, she, with
her maid, was one of the first to leave
the opera house, merely pausing tc
gather up two or three of the floral
tributes that had been showered upon
her.
Her order to the coachman as she
gave him the address of the man she
was going to see was, "Drive as
quickly as you can."
Mother, mother, listen. There S
carriage stopping at the door. I'm
sure it's somebody for me. l know ;
1 can guess. / am sure / am right.
Run, mother, quickly; it is Mar
guerite.
1t was Albert Ferrars who spoke.
His quick ear had caught the sound
of wheels, and his instinct told him
that his letter was answered.
He was excited and overcome with
joy.
The exertion of talking so rapidly
had brought on a bad fit of cough
ing, which left him we'll nigh ex-
hausted.
Just then his landlady returned,
ushering into the room one of the
greatest artists of the daytime.
Madeline Lii. She was enveloped
in a long cloak, which was kept
tightly round her as she advanced to-
ward the bed. She was alone, for her
maid had, by her directions, remained
In the carriage.
my poor boy" she gently said,
as she tenderly placed her hand upon
the sick mans feverish brow.
have come in answer to your letter.
/ have come to sing to you"
"Ah, madame, how kind, how
good Of you! What can I say to
thank you? There, mother" turn
ing to his kind nurse, II told you
Marguerite would come-God bless
her,"
Look, are you fond of flowers? !?
I'm so glad" as he answered more
with his eyes than by word of mouth.
"Take them; they can be put in
water after leave you."
81 will never part with them,
never" the happy man fervently re-
piled as he pressed them to his lips !;
"when l die they shall be buried with
me-"
"Now, you must not talk like
that" gently replied madame. I
will not hear of such thing. Tell
me, what shall I-?"
"Oh, madame, I would not die
tate anything, anything"
Then the great prima donna, the
woman famed in both hemispheres
for her power of attracting crowds to
listen to her sweet voice, sat down on
a little low chair by that humble bed
side, and sang air after air with as
great finish as if her audience con-
sisted of all the crowned heads of Eu-
rope instead of a dying man and a
half frightened woman, while the
principal listener lay with his eyes
closed and a sweet look of unalloyed
happiness upon his wan, white face.
Ever and anon be would join in as
a familiar passage fell upon his ear,
and while his voice was far from be.
ing robust, yet it still retained much
of its old sweetness. Suddenly there
was pause. Ferrars opened his eyes
and said
"How heavenly. I dreamt I was
listening to the angel voices. Mad
anne, how good of you; how kind,
how noble. Will you sing one more
but one duet?"
eyes, oh yes ; many more, if you
like"
"No-only-one l''
(Which one, them" she asked.
"The 'Tardi si.fa' duet. 1 will
sing, if may, with-Marguerite.
Then in the stiffness of the night
and in the presence of the dying, like
an angels voice, rose the sweet notes
of the famous duet:
1t groweth late, FAREWELL
Ferrars joined in. The occasion seem
ed to put life and artistic fire into his
weak frame, and he sang with sur
prising energy and sweetness:
but implore in vain.
But he paid the penalty OF the exer-
tion. By the time he had finished
From yonder sun that shines
Ger thy beauteous features,
Shedding its faint but glorious ray,
he was thoroughly exhausted, and
sank back upon his pillow with the
deathsweat upon his brow. Margue-
rite continued
Oh, what silence reigns around,
when, just as she noticed the change
upon the invalid's face, she was stop
ped by cry of anguish from the
other watcher, who, in a hoarse whis
per, exclaimed
"Look, madame, look he is dead. .
It was true. Ferrars had left this
world of care. The sweet tones oi
that angelic voice had waited hi:
spirit home! Madame was silent fol
a few seconds as the tears welled up
into her eyes. She bent over the
bed, kissed the pale brow, placed the
flowers on his breast, and rose to go
She gazed for moment on all thai
was left of Albert Ferrars, murmuring