Mondovi High School - Mirror Yearbook (Mondovi, WI)

Page 9 text:

THE HIGH SCHOOL MIRROR 5 could never forget them—dark, lustrous, with restless, brilliant light that haunted one with their anguish. Unresisting, she let them remove her cloak, and then stood silently before them, a slender, graceful creature of twenty, her rich garments, her pose, everything, denoting the marks of good breeding. They saw now that she carried a violin, and seating herself before the fire, she touched its lovingly, and tested its every note to see if it bad been injured by the storm. Then she rested it in her lap. and lifting her bend wearily, she spoke. Her voice was low and sweet. It thrilled the listeners and made them draw closer—all but Caryl Courtnay, who again drew back into the shadows. “I’m afra'd I am intruding, but I had to come once more to be w th him, for perhaps it will be the last time. Tonight I am very tired, and when I was at the lake, I heard h:m calling for me to come. You wonder what I am talking about? I will explain: My aunt and uncle, of New York, own this place, and, until a short time ago, they used it as the:r country home. Three years ago today they entertained a crowd of their city friends at a Christmas dinner. I was visiting them at the time, and came to know one of their guests, a young artist. After the party he often spent the week-end with my aunt and uncle and we became very good fr ends. Several months later I was called home by the illness of my parents. Before 1 went we planned to meet aeain at th:s place, two years from the day we parted. During these two years my parents d:ed and my relatives moved away from here. I came back to find a deserted house, but I had plenty of money, so I remained; and though the people say this house is haunted by a ghost, I am the only one who has ever been here. A year has passed and yet he who promised to come ba k has not come. V hile I was still at n y old home he sent me a pi lure of h self and me, w hich he had painted. 1 brought it w th me, and hid n in tl s room. hile you have occupied t e house, I have slept -ut-of-doors, 1 it every night after you had retired. I came to be with him. Tonight I f? -cied I heard h:m calling me. I cou 1 stay away no longer, so I came. Tl, t is all. Quickly Caryl Courtnay came f -ward from the shadows and stood 1 ;-fore the stranger. Bending toward h r, she touched her gen'ly on the ai l and whispered, “Carlotta! The oth r sprang to her feet and cr ed, “G( 1. that voice, that bar. and those eye;! I can never forget them. Who are you ?’’ “I am Caryl, Lionel Courtnay’s s:s-ter. and I have a message for you.” “For me, w'as the dazed answer, “for me, and it is from Lionel? Tell me!” “Yes, from Lionel. About two years ago he left for Africa with a party of friends. While there, he became sick of a deadly fever. He never fully re covered from its effects, so he returned home. After Ifs arrival, he steadily grew worse and the doctor told us he could not live. In his delirium he called incessantly for Carlotta. raved about her dark hair, her glorious eyes, and of a picture he had painted of her and himself. He would try to rise from his bed. crying out that she was waiting for him by the lake and that he had promised to meet her at the end of two years. We looked everywhere for the girl, but we never found her. At the very last. Lionel grew conscious. With his dying breath he begged us to find Carlotta. to tell her why he could not come, and to say that he would meet her in heaven. We promised him all he

Page 8 text:

4 THE HIGH SCHOOL MIRROR Storm that dashed with fury against the rattling panes, the wind that shrieked and moaned in the tree tops, or the fact that they were seated in. darkness, the only light in the room being that which came from the open tire? For some time they had been sitting in silence and then were startled from theft- dreaming to hear a girl remark, Say, girls, you have always wanted to know where I went to at a certain hour every day since we've been here, haven't you? Well, I've decided to tell you. The very first day we came 1 happened to go back in the woods a short distance and there 1 discovered a large lake. Its current is so power-t'gul that it has not frozen yet, and I stood watching it for some time, thinking what an ideal place it would be for skating later on, when 1 was startled to catch a glimpse of a bright red figure, disappearing in the trees ahead of me. 1 started in pursuit. Site led me a merry chase and finally I lost her. 1 forgot all about the incident then, thinking that perhaps it had been some one from the village trying to frighten us. When I was about a quarter of a mile from the house I stopped to rest a moment, and on looking about me 1 was surprised to again see that red cloak. This time the girl did not see me. She was sitting on a rock by the lake, lookiitg out with wild eyes across the water. 1 went nearer and addressed her. At first she paid no attention to me and then suddenly she sprang up and bounded away. F.ach day I returned to the same spot and waited for the coming. She has the most beautiful face I have ever seen and for some reason that face haunts me tonight. 1 wonder who she is aitd why she always sits in that same place by the lake, looking into that far-away, as if expecting some one who never comes. As she finished, a slender girl of perhaps sixteen, came out of the shad ows, and seating herself before the fire, began, Shall 1 tell you girls a stqry ? There was a chorus of assent as they drew hearer to her and prepared to listen. For an instant she hesitated, and bent toward the fire. The flames illumined her face and more than one person present thought to herself, llow pretty Caryl Courtnav is. Her light brown hair was brushed low upon her forehead and the curls were caught loosely behind with blue ribbons. Her eyes were of a dark, unfathomable blue, sometimes merry and laughing, but more often the dreamy eyes of an artist or a musician. She drew back and her face was again in shadow. She started to speak and then w-as silenced by a sound coming up from below. They heard the hall door opening oh its rusty hinges, heard light and htirr'ed footsteps coining up the rickety stairs, and heard them stop at the very door. There was a knock. Those in the room did not move and scarcely breathed. The knock was repeated. One of the chaperones rose and after turning on the lights, she stepped to the door and threw it open wide. All was dark without, and no one was visible. lfie next moment a figure appeared on the threshold. The girls shrieked and drew back, for there stood the girl of the t;cd cloak. She was drenched with the rain, but still stood motionless. looking in upon the frightened group. The chaperone drew her forward and up to the fire. The hood of her cloak had fallen back, and revealed a face, gloriously, wonderfully beautiful. The dark, disheveled hair clustered about her forehead in heavy waves, and in great contrast to its darkness was the White, despairing face beneath it. And those eyes! One

Page 10 text:

6 THE HIGH SCHOOL MIRROR asked and then, with a smile upon his lips, he whispered, ‘Carlotta,’ and was gone. e cont nued our search for the girl without result. Your story and the mentioning of a picture told me that, at last, I had found you.” For answer, the other rose and extinguished the lights. Stepping to the fireplace, she touched a tiny bulb. A panel of the mantel opened noiselessly, and in the opening was a picture of a youth and maiden, looking for all the world as if the originals stood before the breathless group. The flames fell flickeringly over the scene and at times brought into startling vividness the extraordinary beauty of the picture. For a moment the girl stood motionless before it and then exclaimed. exultantly, ‘‘Yes, I am Carlotta. See! it is Lionel and Carlotta! No one spoke. All eyes were riveted on the opening in the mantel, riveted on that marvelous picture of youth and beauty. At last the spell was broken. All eyes wandered from the picture to the girl beside it. She was leaning forward eagerly, one hand slightly raised, the other clasping the violin. In a voice scarcely above a wh'sper, they heard her say, “Listen! I hear again the waves as they lap against the shore: I see the moonbeams flit across the silvery lake; I hear in the distance the mournful cry of the whippoorwill, and mingling with the music of the night are the strains of a violin, and Lionel's voice, singing softly, sadly, and for me alone. It is a farewell song. Come. I will play it for you, just as he taught it me.” She nestled the violin lovingly against her cheek and with trembling fingers drew the bow across the instrument. The room was filled with music; vvierdly, uncannily, the tones rang out. At first, they were wild and despairing, speaking of untold anguish at parting, then gradually they grew softer, and, as they died away into silence, breathed a calm restfulness, like that which comes after the storm. The music ceased. The girl lifted her head and seemed to listen. “Hark, what is that? Is it but the whispering of the p nes, or is it-- Yes, yes, it it he; he is waiting, I hear him calling for me to come. Lionel, I am coming —coming—coming!” The violin slipped to the floor unnoticed, Carlotta stood, hands outstretched to the picture, and eyes soft and tender, looking into the beyond where the others could see not. Slowdv she sank back in ber chair and lay motionless. Without, the storm had ceased, and within, the room brightened and filled with a heavenly radiance that fell gently, protectingly, over the bowed figure. Caryl Courtnay sprang to her feet and with a quick movement flooded the room with light. Bending over the st’ll form she called, “Carlotta, Carlotta!” The white lips did not answer. Again she pleaded, but the figure remained motionless. The only sound in the room was the last faint chime of the vdlage bell, tolling out the hour of midnight, for, with the passing of Christmas day, Carlotta had gohe to meet her lover.—Mamie Magadance. ’14. Statement of the Ownership, Management, Circulation, Etc., of High School Mirror, published every six weeks at Mondovi, Wis., required by the Act of August 24, 1912. Name of Editor, Edgar Earrington, Mondovi, Wis. Business Manager, Paul Walker, Mondovi, Wis. Publisher, Mondovi Higli Sehool, P. F. Neverman, Principal Sworn to and subscribed before me this 30th ay of September, 1912. II. A. WHELAN, Notary Public.