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Updated: May 31, 2025
For Vivia liked the placid life and freedom of the cottage, and here, too, she had oftenest met those dear friends to whom one winter her father, long since dead, had taken her, and half of all that was pleasant in her life had inwoven itself with the simple surroundings of the place.
He goes, and still the upward-smiling girl sees the sunshine, hears the bird-song, a boy dashes by the door and down the path to meet the last, close-lingering embrace of two waiting arms at the gate, and then there is nothing but Vivia bending and gazing at herself in the glass with a flushed and fevered eagerness of rapture.
But it was a horror which nothing wholly lulled to sleep at last but Vivia's singing. Every night, for an hour or more, Vivia wrought the music's spell about him, while he lay back in his chair, and little Jane retreated across the hearth, not daring to intrude on such a season.
"With what a good grace that comes from you!" "With all the better grace." "The old Berserker rage over again!" "Quite as fine as running amuck." "Ray, the race that does not rise for itself deserves its fate." "Vivia, no race deserves such a fate as this one has found." "Idle! I have seen slavery; own slaves: there is nothing monstrous in it." "In Maryland." "Anywhere."
Little Jane sprang forward, but checked herself in a strange awe. "Let me go to bed, auntie," said he, with a dry sob; "and I never want to get up again!" Midnight was winding the world without in a white glimmer of misty moonlight, when the sharp beam of a taper smote Ray's sleepless eyes, and he saw Vivia at last standing before him.
I had barely reached the street when I heard firing and saw people running. Suddenly there came a volley of musketry, and a woman dropped dead a few feet in front of me. Almost immediately the streets were deserted, but I could hear the cries of "Vivia Pierola," and I knew another revolution had broken out. I did not do anything for the woman. Shot through the heart, she was past all aid.
And Vivia draws aside the curtain, and the gentle wind brings in the sweet earthy scent of fresh furrows lately wet with showers, and the ever-shifting procession of the silent stars unveil themselves of gauzy cloud, and glance sadly down with their abiding eyes upon these fleeting shadows.
For life and death, for woe and weal, Thy peerless chivalry reveal, And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel, Maryland! my Maryland!" "You're a wicked girl, Vivia, if you are as beautiful as Phryne!" exclaimed Ray, while little Jane picked herself up from the table, across which she had been leaning with both arms and her dish-towel, and staring forgetfully at him. Vivia laughed.
And Ray stood erect, bristling and fiery, as some one reddening in the very light of battle. And answering him only with flashing eyes, Vivia sang, in her triumphant, thrilling tones, "Hark to a wandering child's appeal, Maryland! my Maryland! My mother State, to thee I kneel, Maryland! my Maryland!
Vennard resumed her basting; Vivia began talking to him about her work and about her walk, murmuring pleasantly in her clear, low tone, Janet now and then putting in a word. Ray sat there, sipping his spicy draught, and looking out with an unacquainted air at the stir to which his coming had lent some gladness. But his face was yet overcast with the shadows of the grave. In vain Mrs.
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