The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-02-18

ence of her nephew, Felix Leominster, a musician, too, like myself, that we three curiously suited, for that we were, without exception, the three most cynicial persons in the universe. Per- haps in way she was right. Yet for all her cynicism Lady Greville know has bundle of old and faded letters, tied up in black ribbon, in some hid den drawer, that perhaps she never reads now, but that she cannot forget or destroy. They are in 8 bold hand writing, that is, not, think, that of the miserable old debauchee, her hus- band, from whom she has been sepa- rated since the first year of her mar riage, and their envelopes bear Indian postmarks.
 And Felix, who told me the history of those letters, with smile of pity on his thin, ironical lips-Felix, who carries as light load of principles as it is possible for man to do with and escape the clutch of the law, and in whom believe as little as he does in me, found out by accident not so very long ago. It was on the day of All Souls, and the melancholy festival of souvenirs, celebrated once year un- der the November fogs, that I strayed into the Montparnasse Cemetery to seek inspiration for my art. And, though he did not see me, saw Felix, the prince of railers, who believes in nothing, and cares for nothing except himself, for music is not with him a passion, but an agrement-Felix bare- headed, and without his usual smile, putting fresh flowers on the grave of little Partisan grisette, who had been his mistress and died years ago. 1 thought of Balzac's "Messe d'Athee," and ranked Felix's inconsistency with it, feeling at the same time how natu- ral such paradox is.
 And myself, the last of the trio, at the mercy of a street organ, I cannot forget Ninette. Though it was not until many years had passed till heard that little criticism, the pur- chase of my fiddle was destined very shortly to bring my life in contact with it's author
 Those were the days when certain restraint grew up between Ninette and myself. Ninette, it must be con- fessed, was jealous of the fiddle. Per haps she knew instinctively that mu- sic was with me single and absorb ing passion, from which she was ex- cluded. She was no genius, little Ninette, and her organ was nothing more to her than the means of liveli- hood; she felt not the smallest ten- dresse for it, and could not understand why dead and inanimate fiddle, made of mere wood and catgut, should be any more to me than that. How could she know that to me it was never dead thing, that even when hope lessly out of my reach, in the window of M. Boudinot, before ever it had given out wild, impassioned music beneath my hands, it was always a live thing to me, alive and with hu- man. throbbing heart, vibrating with hope and passion?
 So Ninette was jealous of the fiddle, and, being proud in her way, she be- came more and more quiet and reti- cent, and drew herself aloot from me, although, wrapped up as I was in the double egotism of art and boyhood, I failed to notice this. I have been sorry since that any shadow of misunder- standing should have clouded the closing days of our partnership. It is late to regret now, however. When my fiddle was added to our belong ings we took to going out separately. It was more profitable, and, besides, Ninette, I think, saw that I was grow ing little ashamed of her organ. On one of these occasions, as played be- fore house in the Faubourg St. Ger main, the turning point of my life befell me. The house outside which I had taken my station was a large white one, with a balcony on the first floor. This balcony was unoccupied, but the window looking to it was open, and through the lace curtains I could distinguish the sound of voices. l began to play at first one of the airs that Maddalena had taught me; but before it was finished had glided off, as usual, into an improvisation.
 When I was playing like that I threw all my soul into my fingers, and I had neither ears nor eyes for anything around me. did not, there- fore, notice until had finished play ing that lady and young man had come out into the balcony and were beckoning to me.
 "Bravo!" cried the lady enthusi- astically, but she did not throw me the reward I had expected. She turned and said something to her companion, who smiled and disappeared. waited expectantly, thinking perhaps she had sent him for her purse. Presently the door opened and the young man issued from it. He came to me and touched me on the shoulder.
 "You are to come with me" he said,