a week passed. no word concerning the projected journey had been spoken by her father, and the young girl was beginning to hope that it might have been only the burden of an idle conversation, not a project really determined upon by either parent. but early one morning, as mr. mordecai caught the sound of music floating out from the drawing-room-such tender music-he laid aside the paper he was reading, and slipped softly toward the room whence came the sounds. this sudden and unusual manifestation of musical skill, this morning outburst of melody, astonished the father, and his approach to the drawing-room was as much from surprise as for the pleasure of a nearer enjoyment of his daughter's skilful performance. unconscious of any approaching footstep, leah sat, pale and statuesque, at the elegant instrument, and drew forth, at intervals, strains of witching melody. the absorbed expression of her emotionless face told plainly that music was the one channel through which the pent-up feelings of her heart found an outlet. how often is this divine art the unsyllabled expression of a miserable, or an overjoyed heart.

"my daughter," at length said mr. mordecai tenderly, after standing for some moments unobserved behind leah.

"is it you, father?" she replied, turning suddenly around, "i did not hear you come in."

"no, my love, i came softly that i might not disturb you; came to thank you for the sweet music that in this early morning sounds-so heavenly, i will say. play me something else, as sweet and tender as the sonata you have just finished, and then come here and sit beside me; i have something to tell you."

"with all my heart, father," leah replied, rising and turning through a mass of music. "shall it be a song, father?"

"by all means, my dear."

and drawing forth the well-worn pages of beethoven's "adelaide," the young girl reseated herself, and sang.

the tender words of her father, as well as the ominous ones, "i have something to tell you," startled leah, and caused the chords of love and fear to vibrate wildly within her bosom. yet she concealed her deeper feelings, and sang-beautifully, bravely, sweetly-the tender, ravishing love-ditty which she knew was her father's favorite. the melody died away, the chords relaxed and hushed their sweetness, and leah turned toward her father, awaiting the words of commendation that he always awarded to her performances. but he was silent. seated upon a divan near by, mr. mordecai presented a striking appearance, which leah at once observed. he was attired in his crimson morning-gown, adorned with golden bordering, and wore a becoming scarlet cap carelessly adjusted upon his head; a golden tassel hung from the cap beside the thoughtful face, and the half-snowy beard which spread like a silken fringe upon his bosom. his head was half-averted, and the sharp black eyes seemed to rest immovably upon some central figure on the luxurious tapestry. he was so absorbed that he heeded not the cessation of the music, nor was he aroused from his abstraction till leah seated herself beside him and said:

"now, father, i am ready to hear you."

"forgive me, daughter, if i seem unmindful of your charming song; but thoughts for your welfare filled my reverie."

"what thoughts, father?" leah asked fearfully.

"well, listen to me. i have planned for you, my daughter, a most delightful and profitable journey. assured that you possess musical talent of the highest order, i desire that talent to be most highly cultivated. the culture you need cannot be obtained in this country; so i have written to my cousin, baron von rosenberg, to have you become a member of his distinguished family for a time. under his care and direction, your studies can be pursued to the greatest advantage. what do you think of the arrangement?"

as mr. mordecai was unfolding what he supposed would be a pleasant surprise to his daughter, he marked the serious, even pained expression of her face, and wondered at it.

leah was silent. then, with an air of surprise and disappointment, her father repeated the inquiry. "what do you think of my plan? you cannot possibly dislike it, my daughter!"

"saxony is a great way off from you, dear father-i believe the baron lives in saxony. i do not think i could be happy so far away from you, the only living human being who loves me truly in this cold world." the last words were spoken bitterly.

"your words astonish me, my child; they savor of ingratitude, and are strange words for your lips. what can you mean?"

leah trembled that so much had escaped her hitherto silent lips, betraying even faintly the true feeling of her heart; and repressing the words that would have followed had her father not offered his rebuke, she replied quickly:

"forgive me, dear father, if i seem ungrateful; perhaps i do not appreciate the love i enjoy; but i do not wish to go so far away from you. and you will not send me, will you?"

"never trouble about me, my daughter; go and stay a year, if no longer; that's a short period of time, when it is past. go for the improvement you will get. go and become distinguished, my child;" and the ambitious parent's eye kindled with a new light at the thought.

leah made no reply, and the father, releasing the delicate hand he had so tenderly held, said again and again, "never mind me, child, never mind me; a year's a short time. go and become distinguished."

the banker went to his counting-house that day, elated with the project for his daughter's pleasure and improvement, little dreaming where, or for what purpose, this plan was conceived; and leah spent its lonely hours in sorrow and in tears.