Capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1893-1895, 1893-08-23
FOR A NIGHT.

ing room Of the Mayhew skating rink with
her violin on her lap. waiting to be called.
her face unruf1ed, hat Der pulse beating
rapidly.
II was her first appearance on any stage
larger than her masters classroom or her
mothers paFlOr
The cat and the mother, OF the master
and his half dozen pupils, had been her
largest audience. the plain serge or ging
ham gown her richest robe.
Tonight the great rink was crowded to
its uttermost capacity, and she wore a gos-
Samer wonder, with delicate lace trim
mings and little frills. No one bat herself
knew that she had paid for her lessons by
darning the old masters socks and sewing
on the ever loOsening buttons; no one but
herself knew that she earned the lace BY
eating her bread without butter for six
whole months, for daughters have the right
TO economic when their fathers sleep un-
der soft beds Of myrtle and the mothers are
invalids and sit all day in an easy chair,
and the dollars have to be counted every
month with stern repression Of tastes and
luxuries. The dear violin itself-she and
her mother had both given up many things
for that, till every string coHld have told a
tale of woe, and every note the bow drew
from it held secrets that might not be told.
Perhaps that was why the old master
shed tears sometimes at her simple improv-
isations and told her she should yet make
great audiences weep or smile and thrill
with delight, all as she chose, All, If she
could only do in the large places the won
ders she and her soul knew in solitude
could be donel
But all this has little to do with Marga-
ret Parker waiting for Mr.. Cameron to con-
duct her to the stage, save that it gave her
a seriousness, and a gladness, too, that lent
her strange charm and dignity, a dignity
unwarranted by her brief IL years,
At last she went on the stage. She had
not dreamed there were so many people in
all the town, and their eyes seemed to draw
her, to invite and encourage her. Every
face seemed to stand out with microscopic
cIearness. She noted thousand details Of
attitude, attire and expression. She saw
that Millie Rogers had her lap full Of flow
ers, and she dimly wondered if any roses
would be given to her.
Then she raised her bow and began. The
ravishing, beautiful notesl They fell upon
room so hushed that she could hear her
own breathing.
Then a great fright came upon her.
Would the divine music come in all this
crowd, and IL it did not-then the faces
drove every thought away, her hands grew
stiff and chilly-the bow would not move
her throat was parched and dry-she pant
ed for breath. She gave quick sob, then
dropped her head upon. her beloved, false,
speechless violin, and burst into tears
Mr.. Cameron whispered words of encour-
agement as he went with her to the ante
room. The sea of watching eyes followed
her in a Stiffness that was terrible. No
flowers, no applause, no congratulations.
You will surely appear againi" said Mr..
Cameron. "A second time it will be cas-
ierl'' but she steadily refused.
The bitter night at homel For she buried
all the hopes that the torch of genius had
been lighting for her. She saw that the
dull, monotonous days of poverty and OBJ
scurity must go on and on. She pictured
herself an aimless, commonplace woman
without beauty, because without hopes and
aims and success.
All her universe lay cFumbled at her feet.
Could she ever face the dear mother in the
morning and say tnat she had failedt Could
she ever face the grim old master and say
that she had failedi Could they ever sit
together in the twilight, the treacherous
violin and she. with the memory between
them of all their pledges and promises and
loves, now that they had once proved false
70 each otheri And with such thoughts
the slow night wore away.
1t was the mothers voice that called to
her in the morning with thrill Of unmis-
taxable pride and delight. and the girl
FASTENED to her.
ut is a big white box for you, dear. Open
it quickly. i am crazy to see what is in itP'
Mrs. Parker was saying. 1t was the most
beautiful thing she had ever seen. The
box itself was of silk and lace, and in it lay
-ahl roses, orchids and pinks, a fragrant,
beautiful massi She had never seen such
loveliness, such luxuriance, such a delicate
ravishing simmer of cOlorsl And Mr..
Mayhew's card was among them.
The first thing she had seen when she
lifted her face from her violin the evening
before had been his eyes-large, dark, pene-
trating, full of scorn and surprise; ewes
that always had been better and softer and
more wonderful than any other ewes In the
whole world; eyes that came between her
and her violin whenever she played her
very best and wooed her on as il they were
heaven itself All night they had kept
their scorn and sorrow on her, and thi,
morning he had sent her the fiowersl
"Oh," said Mrs. Parker in delight, "you
must have played wonderfully 70 get all
these as a tribute today"
II failed absolutely" cried the girl, and
again her tears fell.
But could it have been all scorni" she |
thought, as the resemblance OF the glow In |
his eyes came to her, and the flowers spoke |
softly TO her
Sooner or later all that we wish for comes |
to us, and II was not long before she knew |
when the cat, the mother and Mr.. May |
hew made an audience that never saw her
and that often demanded |
more. After all the hardly earned white
gown had better uses than to be the al /
OF a thousand eyes.
To those who know the story 1t seems
hat il must be the memory Of that one sad
light which has made Mrs. Mayhem so ten.
Ter OF others pains and so quick TO find
hem. She wears no cross and has no mis-.
ion, but In all Mayhem should there be-
my one i'll or discouraged or in disgrace.
my one weary or heavy laden with bur
lens, for such there are always boxes of
hoioest flowers from the successful mill
'wner's conservatory. In the heart of many