Evening star., 1884-11-01

clusively that she and her sister-in-law were
| made of different clay
That conversation with Heldmann in the
MUSHROOM recurred to Clara again and again;
the future he had suggested looked more and
more alluring cOntrasted with the worthless
present Lizzie's life appeared contracted and
poor 10 her; 1T had not even the dignity of devo.
| tion to Frank. for their marriage was the out.
come OF ambition on both sides, and their affec-
ton the result Of habit. Everything about the
| people she saw was small aud commonplace.
was not art better goddess than money.
Could she not breathe a freer air? She was
| selzeu with the divine discomfort that was
| the beginning of better things for her. and she
never went to concert that her conscience did
not reproach her for her supneness.
Another thing troubled her. and that was the
very evident desire of Frank and Lizzie to see
| her married. She had been at home year now
anu was beginning to understand the meaning
| Oh LiZZies constant entertaining and cautious
praises of certain men. She was passivey In.
| different to them all. Some amused her more
than others but she had not found one among
| them all who excited her curiosity to explore
| below the surface, or to whom she cared to
| snow anything more than q superficial cordial
| lty. She had noticed however. that one, Harry
| Bennett, friend of her brother, was beginning
To act toward her very much as poor Professor
| Max had behaved before his explanation in the
music room had enlightened her as to the mo-
| tives Of his conduct. She liked Harry; his
bright. genial nature was attractive, his simple
| mlndedneSs winning; but what he saw in her to
care for in that way puzzled her greatly. She
was not all the kind of girl that he most
affected; he had always admired gay. laughing
women, full of hit or miss repartee. Lizzie
was equally interested in his feelings and inten-
tlons. and. having impaired her surInises to
Frank, the two combined to make it easy for
| Harry to become family friend.
! He called one afternoon and found Clara prac-
ticing in the parlOr.
Confess that you don't really like that stuff. "
he said, as she laid aside the violin and came
| down the room to greet him. '.You only play
| 1t because you think you ought to-
1T is the best part of my life, she answered,
gravely: 1.-The only part that 1 feel is worth
living"
Il KNOW" said Harry. Gan young girls think
they ought to live for something. That's part OF
| their neutrality-suspicious. training; but most Ofthem
| find a husband and children worth living for
In the end, and the rest goes into the back
| ground"
'Yon don't like music" said Clara, as if dis
missing the subject. 1t was quite impossible
for her to discuss the matter with one who did
not even understand the alphabet of her Ian
guage. and had often confessed that he could
not tell Yankee Doodle from America"
Tell me honestly" he went on; 81 am in earn
est Of all the married women you have known,
does one keep up her music? Or if she does,
| isn't her husband the sufferer by it? Now. if we
were married have no doubt the little Stradi-
what-do-y o-you-call-it would 60 into the garret in
a very few months, and you would find your
| house and your visits all you needed to take I'D
your time and thoughts. and you be happy in it,
| too. What do you say?" He leaned forward
and took her hand
You use powerful arguments to prevent nv
marrying at all. she answered, ''ifI should mar
row to what you describe as a woman's happi-
ness and be satisfied with it,"
| Ut Is not narrow. Clara; it is only natural
! am looking at the practical side OF life and YOU
will shut your eyes to it. But that is half your
charm tor me. l have been hoping for months
that we might try life together You shall do
! just as you lke-practice all day long if you
want to. | never would let you feel that YOU
! had lost your liberty"
Don't think that l am ungratetul." said
Clara, in low voice; but can't. Indeed
can't 1t is impossible for me to imagine myself
| your wife. You will forgive my paining you
won't you? But the idea of marrying and going
| on with this life am leading now is like being
| buried alive. There is no freedom, there is no
| escape" She drew a long breath and released
| her hand.
What will you do if let you go?" he in
| CURED, rallyDg from his surprise at the sudden
/ ness and yehemcnce of her refusal.
Musicians tell me that can, if win. be-
come great viOlinist. have wasted too much
! time already. shall open the subject to my
! brother this very evening""
Clara, don't do that, | implore you You
! DON know anything of that kind of life: you
i don't know what terrible influences will be
J bl'uSHt W Dcdl Un you. tive up the fancy: L
! wish | could move you by saying for NV sake
| Give it up II is worse than what you believe
OF marriage"
But Clara undeterred. thought of Professor
Maxs words. and nerved herself for an inter-
view with her brother. 1t was more stormy
th an she had anticipated. from his standpoint
| she was absolutely ineXcusable and equally in.
| comprehensive. Had he not married to give
| her home? Was not Lizzie the kindest and
most consderate of sisters? Had she not all the
| dresses, and parties, and callers that any girl
could ask fOrf AS for her art talk it was rjdic-
ulous cant. If she wanted violin lessons she
! could have them from any teacher in the city;
but TO go On the stage was to disgrace the fam
| liy to lose all chance OF marrying i'm her own
rank, and to repay his and i.izze's love and care
! Dy wlllul opposition to what was best for her
| interests and theirs Lizzie naturally took her
husbands part. but Clara was immovable. Her
mind was made up, and her unanswerable argu-
ment was:
II have money ofmy own. and I am of age"
Your principal would support and educate
| you for about four years" returned her brother.
with the camness of desperation. ''Your inter-
| est is mere song"
Then | will use the principal as far as it
goes, returned the undaunted Clara. ''lf 1
succeed, have fortune assured. II fail [
can give lessons at least and / am not afraid. "
They were obliged to give way before her de-
termination. The world discovered that the
Curtises had quarreled with Clara and sent her
| W Luiopt. anu NeF name was 0fOnpeu from its
visiting books, and, after while. from its
mind
She sent one letter to her relatives. but Lizzie
returned it unopened, without consulting Frank
ana tney received no more communications
They learned through an ever yigilant press
that Miss Curtis. a young American girl had
as Clara AnselmO, made brilliant debut abroad
and after that they lost sight OF her tor several
years.
On taking up his paper one morning. Frank
discovered that the celebrated viOlnst Nine
Clara AnselmO. ami the great Polish pianjsts
and composer Philippe Noel, who rivaled Cho-
pin in his delicate fancy and the strain of French
blood that gave him his name, had been engaged
Tor series OF concerts.
1T is in the worst possible taste for her to come
back here said Lizzie. "Of course you will
take no notice"
Most people have forgotten her existence by
this time" said Frank. deprecatngly II
shouldn't dream Of your going, but think shall
go and hear her play"
He went. Across the hall he saw Harry Rem
nett and his pretty fiancee. unconscious of any
interest but music on Harry's part, for Clara
was years before her day Harry seemed ex-
cited and nervous, and in watching him Frank
forgot to look for his sisters entrance until the
welcoming applause Of the audience reused him
she was the same Clara, simple and quiet as
ever, except that close observer could see
added power In her serene forehead and direct
| gaze. But once in the full tide of sound she
seemed to become etherealized with excitement
and delight. Max Heldmann was right This
1 hnrt fhA