Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-08-08

violins came to him above the vast murmur Of
the house. and casting his eyes downward once
more ne saw that the musicians had taken their
places and were tuning up" Suddenly the
footlights flare up, the leader takes his place
and raps bis baton sharply on the brass rail in
front, the musicians stop talking and place
themselves In readiness, the audience becomes
comparatively quiet and in another moment
the grand overture bursts upon the ear.
| Ihe nrst act was like q dream to John Ford,
He never moved or took his eyes once from the
stage, and yet there was nothing Of clownish
wonder in his attitude. 1t was the natural
pletely absorbed in the listening. There was
| many finely dressed dame and man of fasb
ion down there in the boxes who could not
boast OF the earnest appreciation which was
yonn Fords. And now the act was over and
the audience were streaming out He was
walked from his reverie by people step
ping over his feet, and feeling cramped from
sitting 80 long in one position he got up and
went out, too. 1t was cooler in the foyers, and
he found them crowded, crowded with people
no better than he, people Of whom he had
often heard his father speak and whom he
knew BY sight, but from whose society he was
forever barred out. And why2 Why did not
some OF them remember him? Was it purely q
the bitter reaction Of his feelings John Ford
| was unjust He did not realize that even if
they were looking for him they would have a
nard time to recognize in the pale, rather
shabby man leaning SO YEARLY against the
wall the bright and gay young fellow of former
years. Just then the bell rang for the next
act, and it was with rather bitter thoughts in
MS heart that he turned on his heel and made
his way to his seat
Once more as the story unfolded itself in .
brilliant pageant before his eyes and that grand
music filled his ears with its divine harmony
ne forgot the present and was living again in
the past. He was back in Brussels with the only
woman ne had ever loved. He remembered
hn had H. Al
at the little English church with lady whom
ne afterward found out to be her mother.
1t seemed to him that he could hear
the organ rising and falling and blending
with the music Of the opera in a hymn
that had been sung that morning SO long
ago. He had learned that she was Miss
Helen Cordray-an American girl studying mu-
sic there, and by rare good fortune he knew her
master. He recalled their introduction and
subsequent acquaintance, how little by little
ne had seen the love looking at him out of her
large brown eyes, saw her flush and start at his
approach, how one day they had gone driving
In the Bois-it was her birthday-and ne had
managed to tell her Of his love. They were
standing again at the quaint little door Of her
pension, he was asking her to be his wife, and
dark eyes fill with happiness as she
gave him his answer. And now
the orchestra was playing the grand march.
Oh, how familiar 1t sounded! He saw again
her sweet: delicate profile as she sat at the
piano and played it for him-for him in the old
days at Brussels, in the little music room Of the
pension. And then when the news came of his
fathers death and blighted all his happiness!
He was parting from her at the station, he was
going to America. He saw the tears in the
quivering mouth. All, what pain he had en-
dured! And later, when he got to America and
could get no work, when he found himself
weighed down by debt and realized that he
could barely keep himself from starving, how
could he take her from her luxury for this?
How her letters came to him, full of love an d
the ineffable sweetness Of her nature-and he
had been too proud to tell her the truth, to
tell her that he was too poor to marry her.
How could he cut short her future
and bring her to the wretched tene-
ment he called Q home? And SO he had
ceased writing little by little. never answering
her sorrowful, pleading letters that came SO
often, and letting her believe him unfathful.
But he had broken his heart in doing it. There
was lady down in box on the right with a
pink dress, just like one she used to some
times wear. She was leaning forward
now--good God! What trick was his
imagination playing him? She looked
that face, that dark curling hair, that small
1.-the figure wild food Of hope surged over
him. How came she there? He no longer
heard the music or saw the stage, but his bag
gard eyes were riveted on that one face. He
wondered il she were thinking of him. if she
were married. Yes, there was her mother be-
side her-not much changed And that elderly
gentleman. Who was he?
The act was over and mechanically poor
John Ford LETT his seat. Again he found him
self in the foyer. 1t was 80 crowded that walk
ing was impossible, and he sank, weak with
hope and fear and Joy, against the wall He
had seen her-he would wait for her after the
opera-he- Just then he caught the words
Of two young fellows standing near. YES"
said one, you mean the girl in pink. That is
You could hear her play. I'll take
you up to see her some night"
''But isn't she married2' said the second
In some surprise. mo, replied his companion.
There is some rumor OF her having had an
early disappointment or something of that sort.
but you can't tell" And then the two walked
away, leaving John Ford breathless and stunned
against the wall. Finally he turned and STUN
bied back into his seat. Yes, there was the
woman he loved, and SO near after all these
years. 1t was no wonder that the rest of the
opera was blank to him. No wonder that
the hot tears stole silently down his cheeks. He
wiped them away instantly and looked quickly
about him. No one had noticed. All eyes
were fastened upon the STAGE How Interested
she was She had scarcely stirred in her place
Was she happy, contented? Would she know
him again? So mused poor John Ford. How
that opera ended he never knew, but he found
himself at last standing in the brilliantly
lighted Misunderstanding. He placed himself
back out of sight, in a place which
she would have to pass in going from
her box to tho entrance. At last he
caught glimpse of the fne-looking old gen.
tleman who was with her, and then he saw her
and her mother. They would pass close to
him. lump burned in his throat and a mist
rose in front Of his eyes. Nearer and nearer
they came until her dress brushed against his
feet. He could not have moved to save his
soul. He followed them to the door and saw
the old gentleman go to have their carriage
brought up, leaving the two ladies in the en-
trance. She had changed somewhat He was
not sure but that he detected look Of suffer-
ing in the eyes and a slight droop of the lips
that were not there in the old days at Brussels
Now was his opportunity. He stepped forward
and started to speak. Oh if she had but seen
him then, but she turned away and addressed
n remark to her mother. He could not do it.
Something held him back as in q wise. What
was he-a poor, half-fed clerk, and could he
drag her from comparative happiness and the
greatest luxury and ask her to enter his tene-
ment lodging house? He shuddered and stepped
back among the crowd. He had fought that
battle once and conquered. Was he to give
way now2 Their escort had returned and was
taking them of. John Ford followed them
down the steps, pale and trembling, eagerly
drinking in the tones Of her voice the outlines
Of her figure. See! they were getting in the
Ha bara