Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1885-10-15
WHAT DID IT MEAN?
BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE PROBATION OF
DOROTHY TRAvERs," "PAR-
DoNED," ETC.

st. James Hall was crammed; stalls, bal
cony, orchestra seats, all were full; one vast
mass of humanity; and yet it was only one
of the ordinary Saturday Popular Concerts
that was about to take place; those con-
certs that have taken such hold on the
hearts of the London public, that they
have but to be announced, and forthwith
their success is insured.
But this afternoon the hall was unusual
ly full; one of its old favorites-and the
London public is very faithful to its favor
ites-was about to resume his violin after
months of long and tedious illness, and
was to be greeted with that storm of ap-
plause such as the habitues Of St James
Hall love to give to those who have minis
tered we'll and faithfully TO their pleasure.
Just as the clapping and cheering was at
its very height, when the whole large room
was vibrating from end to end with the
sound, and the hero of the occasion was
tossing back his long hair, that fell like
name over his face as he bowed again aud
again in acknowledgment of the plaudits, a
little old man, with quite white hair, frail,
fragile. and we'll dressed, walked noiseless-
ly up the room, and took up his position in
one of the outside stalls, sitting down
quietly amid the tumult, and letting his
bright Keen old eyes rove as though IN
search of some one far over the head of
the bowling yiolinist to the seats behind the
orchestra.
They we're densely packed, as they
usually are, with those lovers of good music
who are content to wait patiently for an
hour or more to hear the sounds their souls
delight in for the moderate sum OF one
shilling. There was not much beauty
among them-there seldom is among musi-
cal people so that the one face for which
the little old man was seeking so eagerly
stood out among its surroundings as some
beautiful picture in crowd of common
place mediocrities. 1t was a sweet, fair
face, but with depth of sadness in the
large gray eyes, that looked out of place in
one apparently so young
She--for ii was woman-was dressed
in mourning, and had just laid aside a book
in which she had been absorbed when the
great violinist came in. As she settled her
self in her seat after the tumult had sub
sided, and the business of the afternoon
was about to commence, she became aware
of the gaze fixed so earnestly on her. She
did not seem surprised all last year ut
these same concerts, all this year up to the
present time, she had felt those keen eyes
riveted on her, until she began to look on
them as a matter of course, having forgot
ten both the annoyance they had caused
her ut first and the amusement of later
period.
Latterly, she had made up her mind that
the little old gentleman was an amiable
lunatic as time after time, in whatever
part of the hall she Glanced to be, his
quick eyes found her out, and kept her in
q full stare throughout the whole perform
ance.
But nothing more no meeting her at the
r. L IL 4 I..,r.
no. She said to herself, he was a lunatic,
but gentleman, and with that reflection
perhaps the music would begin, and she
would forget ali about him. But to-day,
as she smiled to see the face she had grown
so used 10 that she missed il il by rare
chance she were absent, she could not but
remark that it had as it we're, aged since
the last week. the lines of age that formed
a network over the delicate, sensitive old
face seemed to have deepened and widened,
the eyes to have lost somewhat of their
bird-like brightness.
How my old gentleman has aged this
last yearl" she thought carelessly to herself,
as she drew in, with exquisite delight, the
sweet wall of the violin, touched by mas
ter hand, that quickly drove all other
thoughts out of her head.
Two hours later the concert was all over,
somewhat breakneck staircase that leads
from the orchestral seats, with her ears
still ringing with Beethoven and Schumann,
and somewhat eager smlle of anticipation
on her lips, utterly forgetful of her little old
gentleman. She was in hurry, for she was
| not the mistress of her own time, and was
walking down Piccadilly as fast as conven-
tiopaljty will allow you to walk in crowded
thoroughfaTe, when her passage across the
street to the Green Park was stopped by a
string of carriages The brougham that
halted Immediately in front of her was
small and perfectly appointed, and for one
moment Helen caught glimpse of its oc-
cupant. IL was her little old gentleman,
but he did not see her; he lay back among
the cushions, with his eyes shut and look
| Of deadly WEAKNESS on his pale, thin face.
| A pang shot through the girls heart; how
| i'll he looked, and how lonely he seemedl
almost as lonely as she was. Aud
| then there was move; the carriages had
/ passed on, and the policeman was notion
ing to her to take advantage OF her chance
| of crossing
| Another ten minutes brought her 10 her
| destination, q house in Grosvenor place,
and as the door was opened 70 her by a
solemn butler, she asked nervously, lis
Mrs. Fame come in YETI"
mo, miss" he answered, and with a
| lightened heart the girl ran quickly mp the
staircase, and entered the drawing room
| almost as though afraid to pause.
Swift as a fash OF lightning there passed
over her face smile of intense pleasure,
| TO be succeeded at once by her usual serene
gravity, as she perceived that the room was
] nof sntenantad. n tall fair-haired mar