The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1884-08-23
LOVE OR ART.

There YOU are mistaken. ! might
Weld to your wish because ! loved you,
but it would always be with sense OF
Injustice. Music mas always been the
passion Of my life | have loved it,
and worked for it all the while, and
now that there has come to me the
thing | have dreamed of ever since my
childhood that have Il chance
TO 90 to the Lcipsic Conservatory
want me to give it up. No, Harry, If
YOU will not take me with all my aims
and ambitions, we had better part. "
IL hate a woman with a purpose, y
he said, sharply.
"And | haze a man without one.
Harry Dcrwcnt WINGED, and turned
away.
Then there is nothing for Us but TO
say goodbye! Evelyn, | wish you well,
but some day YOU will be sorry
mo; shall ncve: regret what | am
doing now. Goodbye Harry! am
going away, but | do love you. wish
YOU would never forget that,'
For II moment her two slender, sup
pie white hands rested on his, her soft,
grey eyes, vei.ed with gathering tears,
looked up into his. and her sweet,
tremulous lips were near his own.
"Darling! he cried, appealingly.
But she had iluttcred away from him
like bird on the wing, and he saw her
no more.
"A man without purpose, he re-
peatcd, as he sat that night over the
dying embers of his fire. ''She told
lhc truth. But if she had promised to
be my wife | could have worked for
her. Wei, she has chosen her way,
and must 90 mine will not drift
along as | have been doing. If she
has a career, it shall not surpass mine.
| will make her regret some day that
she did not marry mel"
Three years passed, and Harry Der
went mad won for himself such rccogni-
non as is seldom accorded Il young
lawyer,
Success, moreover, had inspired him
with the ambition which had once
seemed lacking in his nature.
II wonder" he mused one night,
as he sat in large conccrl-room, wait
ing for the appointed hour Of commence
ng-'I wonder if | wasn't II little
hard upon Eyclyn? | used to be an
idle sort OF u fellow, ana perhaps II
woman with her talents and ambition
might have found it hard to be happy
with me.
His thoughts ran on in this channel,
but were interrupted by II burst of
music from the orchestra.
The brilliant overture was followed
by some vocal music-a simple, we'll
worn song, that filled Mr. Derwent's
heart with sad and tender longing.
AS the last notes of the song died
away, Harry sat wrapt in dream, in
which he seemed TO hear Evelyn's
gentle voice, whispering to him those
;elf-same words.
ii was wrong" he said to himself.
IL see il now. 1t was selfish of me to
ask so much of her."
A soft, liquid run over the keys Of
The piano made him look up.
He had dropped into the concert by
chance, and he had paid no attention
10 the programme.
Now, as he raised his eyes, he saw
shS -ihNtlul wv, thN puIO, uNllSdbO
profile, OF Evelyn Biount
She was seated at the piano, playing
with the Inconsistencies of inspiration
one of Chopin's exquisite compositions.
Her execution was marvellous; her
touch the soul of poetry.
The hall resoundcd again and again
with applause as she played, in re-
spouse TO an enthusiastic encore.
"Ny darling!-my darlingr' Harry
murmured with u swelling heart. IF
| could have buried YOU genius, what
wretch should have been to do it!'
at is her first public appearance,
someone whispered near him. Every
one is wild about ncr. They are going
10 give her public reception, after the
concert, at her hotel.
GLOW she must dcspise mel" Der
went cried, as he turned his steps to-
wards the Imperial, hoping, yet fear
ing, 10 meet the woman whose staunch
fidelity TO her genius filed him now
with the most reyerentt love and adj
mration. She is lost to me for cverl'
The reception was a perfect crush.
Eyelyn's rooms ut the Imperial Hotel
were beautiful, filled with rare bric-a-
brac and lovely flowers, all tributes to
the brilliant pupil OF the great master
of music.
Derwent could not get near her. but
standing afar oil, he watched her with
longing eyes.
She was talking to distinguished
looking German, when suddenly she
uttered sharp cry.
Take carcr' she exclaimed.
The warning came too late.
Some one had pushed against slight
pedestal and thrown over beautiful
bust of Italian marble.
.'Oh, my Beetho, en-" she cried, in
dismay. springing forward to catch it
In that she failed, for the weighty
marble was too heavy for her. 1t only
struck her with stunning force, and