"
The latter possessed a soft, rich and musical voice of much
flexibility and easily adapted to meet the tastes of her audience.
"What shall I sing?" cried she in imploring tones as her eyes
instinctively met those of Mr. Lawson.
"Anything you like," replied several voices.
As the girl took her seat at the piano she looked everything but a
hoyden. A sweet native grace possessed every movement and gave
dignity to every gesture. The pretty fingers, somewhat browned by
recent exposure, ran over the keys and a prelude soft and bewitching
floated around the room, then the bird-like notes warbled forth that
well-known song--
"'Tis evening brings my heart to thee."
A solemn stillness prevailed. An exquisite sadness seemed to possess
each member of the company, but there was one who felt it keenly.
As Phillip Lawson sat there listlessly turning over the leaves of a
handsomely-bound portfolio who could tell of the deep agitation that
almost unmanned him? Not a muscle moved, not a sigh was heard, not a
look was conveyed, yet deep down in his heart was a fierce conflict.
"My God," thought the young man in the bitterness of his heart,
"will the dead past never bury its dead? Why does it come forth from
its shallow sepulchre and meet me on the most trifling occasions?
Even that romping girl has power to unearth the mystic presence.
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